Once a hunter, always a hunter
by Super-nerdiful
Summary: Helen Murphy has a relatively normal life, but it wasn't always this normal. She thought she had done a great job of distancing herself from her former life, until now, it seems. It's like Bobby always said, "There's only one way outta this life, hon." She's finally realizing how true that may be, and not just for herself. (Rating upped to M for what's in the next chapter)
1. Chapter 1

**_Hi everyone! This is my first time publishing fan fic, so any and all reviews would be so helpful! All OC, placed within the existing Supernatural story. Sometimes I'll include parts of episodes, but mostly, it's just another POV of the Supernatural-verse. This is just the beginning of Helen's story, so just bear with the seemingly slow start. Thanks!_**

 ** _Edit: I was reminded that I didn't specific Helen's age-since this starts during 2009, she's 28. (Born in 1981, btw) Sorry y'all :)_**

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"Ah crap, he's still in V Fib. Charge again!" Helen yelled as the nurse next to her continued CPR. The defibrillator dinged when it had fully charged. "Everyone, CLEAR!" she ordered, maneuvering the paddles back over the patient's chest to deliver the shock. The patient's chest rose violently as his muscles contracted. She looked back up at the monitor to see a normal heart rhythm again, and quickly checked his pulse. Helen stood up straight, breathing a sigh of relief and said a silent thank you to the man upstairs. "Got a pulse-let's get him to the unit before he tanks again," she nodded at the nurse across the stretcher. "I got this, doc," Cindy said with a wink. Helen shook her head slightly, and a smile crept across her face. _Of course she had this_ , Helen thought. _The woman was a force to be reckoned with, and then some_. "I'll call over to the ICU and let 'em know you'll be on your way," she called back to Cindy as she exited the room.

The doctor pulled her blonde hair back into a ponytail as she walked back to the ER's nurse's station to finish the paperwork. Even after she put it up, her hair still fell past her shoulders, but at least it was off of her sweaty neck. She readjusted her stance a few times, trying to get comfortable for the several minutes it would take to write everything out. As she did, her scrubs clung to her slender body awkwardly, giving Helen an I-literally-just-rolled-out-of-bed disheveled appearance, thanks to the last adrenaline-fueled Code Blue. _Crap,_ she thought. _I almost made it one shift without leaving looking like I'm doing the 'morning after' walk of shame. Eh, maybe tomorrow I'll leave here looking decent. Carpe diem can screw_ _itself_. She paused paperwork duty for a moment to stretch her neck, then stood up, straightening into her full height, all of 5'4" that is. (Tall enough to look over the bar, but not tall enough to get mistaken for an adult most days.) From where she was leaning against the circular desk, Helen had a clear view of most of the patient rooms. For once, everything looked… _okay_ , at least for a few minutes. Which was great timing, considering Helen's bladder had finally had enough of the don't-stop-'til-you-drop pace of the ER. She let out a cynical laugh, knowing that as soon as she even began walking towards the bathrooms-

"Dr. Murphy?" _Damn it, she hated being right sometimes_. "The patient in 6 just started complaining of severe chest pain," the nurse at the desk sputtered out anxiously. Multiple alarms were going off on the monitor at the desk. Helen peered around the nurse to look at the monitor. Sure enough, they were from room 6. Hypotensive, tachycardic, _and_ hypoxic, oh my! The readings weren't terribly abnormal...yet.

 _Is there a psychic Helen-has-to-pee sensor around here or something? Because Helen swore every time she'd try to take a break in the past month, there was_ always _another patient going bad. Every. Damn. Time_. _Cue exasperated eye roll..._

She sighed internally, then closed her eyes. _What the hell, it's just one more patient, then I can escape for a minute,_ she thought. "Alright Nichole, let's see what we've got." The nurse walked around the desk to meet her, and together the pair went into room 6 to check out the patient. _Please just let this one be gas, not another heart attack, Helen pleaded mentally with the man upstairs,_ provided the man upstairs was still listening.

Finally, an hour (and many tests) later, she was able to break away for a moment. Luckily for her, and the dumbass in room 6, it _was_ just indigestion, courtesy of too many cheeseburgers, fries, and God knows what else he hoovered before his trip to the ER.

 _Seriously, does anyone even try to use their brain anymore_? Helen groaned to herself. Usually, it didn't bother her too much, but today had just been chock full of idiots. She shook her head and realized she kind of missed the days when could just _shoot_ said problem and be done with it. Hunting was simple. _People_ were complicated.

But...generally, people really weren't that bad, Helen had decided. They just had a damn funny way of showing it sometimes. "Idjit," she muttered as she walked past room 6 and its dumbass occupant. Still, everyone was worth saving, dumbass or not.

Her cell phone vibrated in her pocket, interrupting her thoughts. Helen checked her phone and noticed a missed call, followed by a voicemail. _Uh oh._ When she saw the phone number, Helen quickly made her way to an empty closet and shut herself inside. This call was not something that just anyone could just accidentally overhear without, er, _questions_. She sat on the floor and listened to the voicemail:

"Helen? It's me. Long time, no talk, I know. Too long. Anyway, something big is happening, soon. Looks like we have a chance, our _only_ chance maybe, to go after him. The son of a bitch himself, can you believe it? Jo and the boys got the Colt, so tomorrow we get to it. Look, I know you don't want in-I get it. But in case we don't make it out, just wanted you to know…I-I am so proud of you baby. I love you. Kiss the boys for me. Goodbye."

Ellen's message ended, and tears welled up in Helen's eyes. "Oh my God," she breathed out. Her chest heaved as she fought back sobs. _Not now, Helen. Pull yourself together, like yesterday._ Wiping the tears from her eyes hastily, she dialed the number. Ellen picked up on the fourth ring. "Hello?" she answered. Helen hesitated briefly, too befuddled to find the right words, but she pushed herself to continue. "Hey Mom," she replied tightly, "I got your message."

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 _ **I like cliffhangers... Sorry lol!**_

 _ **The story picks up in the next chapters, btw. I've made some edits, so tell me what you think! -H**_


	2. Chapter 2

**_Hopefully I stoked the suspense fire enough to keep y'all interested, mwahahaha..._**

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Ellen's face squeezed into a small, half-smile at the sound of Helen's voice. "Ok, let me have it," she ruefully responded. Ellen walked away from the cacophony in the kitchen to hear her daughter better.

Helen's face contorted into a mixture of frowning and smugness. "Whatever do you mean, mother?" she innocently answered, knowing her mother already knew what she was thinking. Helen could practically hear her mother rolling her eyes at her sarcasm. _This was like junior prom and taking the car, all over again_ , Helen thought.

"You know _exactly_ what I mean Helen Marie Harvelle, so don't beat around the bush. Tell me just how dumb you think we are for going at the Devil head-on," came Ellen's clipped reply.

A hysterical giggle bubbled out of Helen before she could stop herself. "Oh my God Mom, it's been Murphy, not Harvelle, for five years now, remember?" _Only my mother would pull that full-name-for-sassing-her crap while discussing the damn apocalypse._ She shrugged it off as just another source of her screwed-up sense of humor. They shared a brief laugh before Helen rambled on. "And yes, this is a stupid plan. Recklessly stupid. Stupidly stupid. Should I continue to count the ways?"

"Oh no, I think you made it completely clear the first time, dear." Ellen sighed.

"Now tell me Mom, how exactly are you guys planning on icing the Devil again?" Helen inquired. Suffice it to say that the very idea had tripped her hunter's curiosity.

"Well, the Colt of course. Should do the trick," Ellen quickly countered. _Well, the Colt of COURSE..._ Helen sarcastically mimicked her mother because, well, she really had no mature response yet. Helen was fuming, beyond words, that her mother thought the simple answer could placate her. _Come on...Mom has to know better, right?_ Helen silently debated whether or not to say what she was really thinking.

 _Oh, to hell with it, because life was short and only getting shorter, apparently_.

"' _Should do the trick_?'" Helen shrilled. Her voice had definitely jumped an octave. "Are you freaking kidding me? Sweet mother Mary, I didn't think it was possible, but this plan actually got worse! Please, tell me you idjits have a back-up plan that is slightly less insane!?" Helen exclaimed. "You _do_ have a back-up plan, right?"

Shaking her head, Ellen retorted, "Mind your tone, young lady. I'm still your mother, apocalypse or not!" Ellen inhaled deeply, then continued, slightly calmer, "…and to answer your question, yes we do. As a matter of fact, angels are real. Yes, I said angels. We have one coming with us."

Well that little tidbit stopped Helen's tirade right in its tracks. _Angels. Real. Al-right-y then._ Helen's thoughts streamed endlessly as she attempted to process the fact that angels existed. Huh. Well, it wasn't that big of a stretch from believing the Devil existed, right? He _was_ , in fact, an angel first, if her memory served right. Duh. _I wonder what they're like, may-_

Ellen's attempts to get her attention again finally kicked her out of her mental conversation. "Oh right, sorry. Huh. Well…that's, er, good to know. Hey, do they have halos? Wings? The whole sha-bang?"

"Focus, Helen..." Ellen interjected.

"Right, oops. Sorry." _But seriously though..._ Helen's curiosity had gotten the best of her. She was dying to know more about th- "Wait a minute, how do we even know the Colt is, uh, capable of ganking the SOB anyway?" Helen stumbled over the words.

"We have it on good authority it can do the job," Ellen replied. She feigned confidence, hoping to mask her shaky voice.

"Good authority, my ass," Helen grumbled under her breath. "Whose authority?" she asked incredulously. Whoever the hell this was, they had to be some sort of big kahuna to tell Ellen Harvelle, 'Yes, it'll work-take my word for it,' and make her listen. Seriously. Her mother double checked and verified everyone and everything, no exceptions. It had been the bane of Helen's high school existence, come to think of it.

Ellen hesitated, knowing there was no way her daughter would react well to the information. Reluctantly, she told her, "The demon who gave Sam and Dean the Colt. He told them it would."

Helen froze. _Naturally, because a demon said so... That's what they were going with? What the hell?!_ Sickening, awful feelings began to creep through her body. Chills were seriously running down her spine. Helen began nervously twisting her ponytail in her hands at the thought and pulled her knees to her chest to keep them from shaking.

Cautiously, she whispered, "Mom. There's no way any good can come of that. Trusting a demon?" Helen coughed out a wry laugh and stammered, "Like that will end well? Th-there's got to be, has to be some other way, right? Like, ANY other way?"

Ellen hung her head and tried to find a good explanation. She came up with...zip. Nada. Her firstborn had been headstrong since she was in diapers, but damn if it wasn't always for the right reasons, the right instincts. Well, most of the time. But this was definitely one of those times. Just _thinking_ about this whole situation gave Ellen goosebumps.

The silence began to stagnate. Neither woman could change the facts at hand, and neither could pretend she didn't know better. Helen's mind raced through scenarios talking her mom out of it, but no dice. Ellen realized she had no easy way to convince Helen of what had to be done. Helen gripped her phone tightly, her throat too thick with emotion to speak yet. Ellen put the phone to her chest as she took a deep breath to settle the shaking in her arms, knowing what she had to tell her daughter.

"Helly? You still there?" Ellen breathed.

"Yeah Mom, I'm here," Helen replied quietly.

"This isn't even something we ever imagined dealing with, in either of our lifetimes sweetie. But we don't exactly have a choice here. It's crap or get off the pot time, because we know right where the sonofabitch will be, and when. We have a weapon. We-" Ellen's voice cracked momentarily but she followed through to finish her thought. "We have to try. Save as many as we can. It's what we do." She paused. "It's what your daddy would've done."

Nodding along silently, Helen fumbled through her reply. "Right. Of course. Dad." Tears threatened to make an appearance again when Helen checked her watch. Crap, she had no time left in her break. She slowly came back to her senses and, remembering where she was, stood up to brush the dust off of her pants. "Umm yeah. I, I have to get back to work." Helen smacked her forehead as she realized how douche-y that sounded, especially after a conversation like this one. "Just…be careful, ok? Both of you," she whispered to her mother.

Lip trembling, Ellen quickly said, "You too," and hung up before the tears could begin. She composed herself before walking back in the kitchen, just in time to see Jo pull out a bottle of tequila. Plastering on the most genuine smile she could manage, she sat down with her youngest daughter, trying to forget the ominous feeling in her gut after her conversation with Helen. _It'll work out,_ Ellen thought _. ...right?_

Back at the hospital, Helen shook her arms and paced in circles, but she couldn't shake the sinking feeling in her stomach. _What did they just get themselves into?_ Every time Helen tried to NOT think about it, the reality of the situation overcame her. _No...no, not now. You've gotta get back to work, Hel. Other people need you now._ Helen inhaled sharply as she tamped her emotions back down.

Exhaling slowly, she paused before opening the door, considering whether or not she should call Ellen back one more time. _No, there's no turning back now. Not for them. Just wish them the best._ Helen shook her head, making up her mind to leave it to her mom, sister, Bobby, and the Winchesters to save the world's bacon this time. _It's not my problem, anymore._ Helen walked out of the closet and back into the comparatively minor chaos that was the ER.

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 ** _Please let me know how the banter between Helen and Ellen came off. I was shooting for a mix of Jo-Ellen and Dean-John, i.e. mother-daughter but with the oldest. I also wanted to jump around with POV a bit, since we never got to see much of what Ellen_ really _felt_ _about all of this._**

 ** _(Side note: this would've been posted hours ago if my computer hadn't crashed. Curse you, technology! Just kidding, but seriously though. Let's not do that dance again...) If you're reading this, thank you! -H_**


	3. Chapter 3

_**If anyone's still with me, thank you! Next chapter, order up!**_

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Finally, her shift came to an end, and Helen walked out to her car. The door creaked slightly as she slid inside, making her flinch instinctively. Helen had hoped driving away from the hospital would help, but she still couldn't get rid of that pit in her stomach. The conversation with her mom and the long shift in the ER swirled together, effectively putting her into a haze for the drive home. Helen wondered if there was anything she could even do to help in the first place. It's not like she was up to speed on the lore, and her skills and reflexes were _beyond_ rusty. The last time she had field stripped her gun was...months ago? _Crap, is that even possible? Could I even throw a knife still? Doubt it,_ she answered herself _._ Helen grew increasingly flustered as she realized just how out of the game she was. _No way I could help 'em. Actually, I'd be too busy throwing my own bacon in the pan to try to save theirs!_ Sighing deeply, Helen attempted a fake smile and made up her mind to leave it alone for the night. It's not like she'd do them any good worrying over what she couldn't fix, either.

They knew what they were doing…right? She should trust them.

A faint smile played across her lips at the thought. Trust? Please. That was most _definitely_ not in Helen's DNA. (She hated admitting it, but she was _so_ her mother's daughter. And...she had background checked her husband as soon as they were dating. She'd never admit that to her mother, though.) A few familiar chords from the radio caught her ear, so Helen turned up the volume.

 _So I'm gonna keep on loving youuu, 'cause it's the only thing I wanna doooo..._ She hummed along, willing the music to coax a better mood out into the open.

She continued driving and was about halfway home when her phone rang. "Hello?" she answered.

"Is this Dr. Helen Murphy?" Drew asked seductively. "I've got this problem…think you can help me with it?"

Helen laughed at her husband. "You know it, goofball. I'm on my way home now-do I need to pick up anything?"

"Nope, not a thing," Drew replied, "I've got dinner ready, so we're just waiting for you. And, by the way, the natives are restle-" Their sons' voices interrupted his thought. "Moooommmmyyyy! Hurry up!" Michael and Tyler yelled in the background.

Helen sighed and shook her head. She _was_ late, after all. Not by long, but 2 and 4 year-olds don't tend to be very forgiving of any delays in food, especially not their two. "I figured they might be-sorry babe. Train wreck came in right when I was leaving, so I helped the next shift stabilize 'em before I left. I promise, I'm not even 10 minutes away now," Helen apologized. As much as she hated dumping on the next shift, any and all disappointments to the boys were like a drop-kick to the gut.

Admittedly, this was tame compared to the beginning of her residency when she would basically live at the hospital for 3 days at a time...but still.

Before she could launch into her follow up explanation, Helen heard Drew chuckling heartily. "Just another day at the office, right? Hel, come on. I get it. You don't have to apologize every time you're a few minutes late. Just get home so we can celebrate another day in paradise, ok?"

She smiled widely. "Sorry Drew, can't help it. I'm hurrying though, so you don't have to fend the natives off much longer!" she quipped. "I love you-see you soon." "I love you too," he replied before hanging up.

"'Paradise'? Ha. How the hell did I manage to end up with such an optimist?" Helen asked herself. She laughed derisively.

 _I don't wanna sleep, I just wanna keep on loving you..._ the lyrics found their way back to her, so Helen rolled with it and sang out loud. The last bit of her commute couldn't fly by fast enough; she was ready to see her boys.

Helen pulled into the garage, threw the car into park, and nearly ran into the house, grateful to be home.

"Boys, I'm home!" she yelled toward the open door. Helen remembered her bag and walked back to get it out of the car. Something felt strange, out of place, but Helen couldn't put her finger on it.

As she stepped back into the house, she realized what it was and stopped cold.

The door had already been open when she walked in the first time. Drew never left a door unlocked. _...but there could be a perfectly reasonable explanation for this time,_ she told herself. She cautiously crept around the corner into the hallway, but didn't see, or hear, anyone yet. She called out their names again as she walked through the home. _God it's quiet. ...Maybe they're playing a game..._

Even her feigned attempts to placate herself didn't land. Her hair was practically standing on end, every latent instinct in her body sounding alarms. _Where the hell were they?_ "Drew? Michael? Tyler? I know you guys are around here somewhere!" she yelled, attempting to make her tone light. The kitchen was empty, but she could smell the lasagna in the oven.

 _M_ _aybe he forgot something, ran to the store with the boys really quick,_ she thought. Yeah, that had to be all it was…until she remembered that his car was still outside. Damnit. That sinking feeling from earlier made an encore appearance in her stomach. As she turned into the dining room, heart pounding, Helen gasped and froze.

"We're so glad you're home, Helen. We've been waiting for you for so long," said the woman holding a large knife to Drew's throat.

Her hand flew to her mouth as she tried to muffle her scream. Drew, Michael, and Tyler were each tied to a chair with duct tape over their mouths. Michael and Tyler both had tears streaming down their faces in confusion and terror. _They're just kids, you bitch!_ Helen yelled in her mind at the woman _. What did they do to you?!_

She scanned her husband's face for any indication of what had happened. Instead, she simply saw rage, as in, Lou Ferrigno Hulk-level rage. Drew was afraid, of course, but more than anything, he was pissed. _No one_ messed with their kids, especially if he had anything to do with it. Now, he was completely helpless, unable to protect anyone. It was painfully displayed all over his face, and judging by the smile on the woman's face, it was just the reaction she wanted. It broke Helen's heart.

Helen tried to keep her composure, but she was already shaking with equal parts fear, rage, and confusion herself. _Who was this girl?_ she wondered. The young woman smiled cruelly, clearly enjoying watching Helen panic. Helen swallowed hard and did her best to rearrange her expression into something resembling calm. "What do you want?" she asked, as her voice quavered.

"Oh, Helen… You shouldn't ask a question if you don't really want to know the answer," the woman replied.

 _Ok, not random. She knows my name. Not_ _good_. Helen's stomach was in knots. Drew managed to catch Helen's attention for a moment. He nodded his head slightly and made a rolling motion with his fingers. _Keep her talking, right…duh Helen. What are you new?_ she chided herself _._ Her husband was so level-headed for a civilian, thank God. Helen began, "No, but I do know there's a reason why you're here. Look, whoever you are-"

The woman cut her off with a snide laugh. "You don't even remember me, do you?" The woman was visibly angry that Helen didn't recognize her, which confused Helen even further. The woman didn't look that old. Helen briefly studied the woman, searching for any hint of recognition. She was about 5'5", slight build, with shoulder-length brown hair. Her large brown eyes overtook her other features, giving her youthful appearance a more precocious look than Helen noted at first glance. Come to think of it, she couldn't be more than 18 or 19, maybe?

The woman, er, girl continued on. "You… you took…everything from me! But that wasn't even a blip on your radar, was it? Just another nest of vampires taken down to you hunters, right?!" she stammered angrily. Helen's head snapped to attention, and she felt herself go cold to her core. She _did_ recognize her.

"Sasha?"

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 ** _The story will pick up speed in the next chapters, so I definitely appreciate any feedback. Thanks y'all! -H_**


	4. Chapter 4

**_I promise, I'll stop with the cliffhanger-ish endings soon; it's just how the story has ended up unfolding. Oops... And away we go!_**

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Helen began to hyperventilate as flashes of that night ran through Helen's mind.

She and Martin, charging through the house, killing vampire after vampire… Helen finally noticing the feet sticking out from under a bed…pulling out the sobbing girl and trying to explain that she had been saved… Then Martin insisting on killing her…

Her stomach was doing double backflips remembering that part. He would have killed Sasha, if Helen hadn't firmly reminded him that she was human.

It's not that he didn't care, but he was positive that she had been raised with vampires too long for her to still want to be human. Helen just couldn't bring herself to believe that. Call it instinct, call it teenage naivety, it didn't matter-she wasn't hunting a human, period. So, they compromised. They had dropped her off at the closest hospital, with strict instructions: they never existed-hunters, or monsters, for that matter.

Helen blinked as the memories finally ended and raised her head. "I do remember you, Sasha. I could never forget you." Her voice was caught in her throat now. "And I will always be sorry." Helen murmured hoarsely.

Sasha's grip on the knife loosened at Helen's apology. "Huh. Never heard an apology from a hunter before." It seemed to soften something inside her momentarily. Whatever it was, it didn't last. "Well, with the world ending, I guess anything goes now!" Sasha scathingly remarked.

Helen held up her hands in surrender and shook her head. "No, that's not it. I know they felt like they were family, but they weren't, Sasha. They were using you, and would've eventually killed you or turned you. Neither of those is something you would want, right?"

Helen repeated the question: "Right?!" she begged urgently. Sasha narrowed her eyes and opened her mouth, baring her teeth at Helen. "Oh, but I did want that, Helen," she replied as her fangs slid over her teeth. "Now I'm finally one of them-we're blood now." She smiled, flipping her hair over her shoulder for emphasis.

Helen's heart sank. Mother of pearl, she went and got herself turned just for revenge? Drew looked back and forth between Helen and Sasha wildly. God, he has to be confused. Sasha followed Helen's gaze to Drew and suddenly seemed to remember he was there. She sauntered around to face Drew and leaned in closely. "Oh, let me guess? Didn't think vampires were real, huh? Twilight gives us such a bad rap, you know," she chirped. Drew's face pulled into further confusion. "Wait, you didn't know... then that means... You have no idea what your little wifey here used to do for a living, do you? What she used to be?" she leered as her fangs slid back into her gums. "Well, let's introduce you to the real Helen!" Sasha gleefully exclaimed.

Helen closed her eyes and wrung her hands together anxiously. "NO!" she shouted desperately. She had only ever wanted to protect them, to hide the truth. "Sasha, you've got it all wrong. I'm not, anymore. After that last…well, what happened…with you…it was the last time I hunted." Helen blurted out clumsily. "I'm not a hunter, not anymore."

Sasha cocked an eyebrow at Helen's outburst as she ripped the tape from Drew's mouth. Both of their sons flinched at the sound. "I don't believe you. Once a hunter, always a hunter. Drew, is it? Drew dear, any thoughts?" she asked, all too enthusiastically.

"Hel, what is she talking about? And...wh-what the hell is she?" His head whipped back and forth between Sasha and Helen. "You've never hunted in your life! You hate gutting fish, for God's sake!" Drew snapped. Helen pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. No no no no no...this couldn't be really happening. Sasha cackled with excitement, "Oh Hellleeeen, I think you have some 'splaining to do!"

Drew stared, bewildered, as he shouted, "Will someone just tell me what the hell is going on? Honey?" Drew's eyes locked onto Helen's, pleading with her for some shred of truth. Damn it. Helen's eyes darted between her husband and their sons as she took stock of the situation. Both boys were too young to fully understand what was happening, but they knew enough to be completely terrified. I did this. I put them in danger. Her guilt welled up, but before it could overcome her, Helen snapped back to her senses. Maybe this "truth or truth" game will be enough to satisfy her...worth a shot.

Helen uttered softly, "Drew, I'm so sorry. You were never-this wasn't supposed to ever, uh, come up." She shifted her stance awkwardly. "Um, this is going to sound strange, but remember when I told you about my life before I left for college?"

Drew nodded his head. "Yeah, you said you couldn't talk about it, but that it wasn't something you could ever go back to, whatever that meant."

Helen nodded with him. "And that's true. But I never exactly shared what we did because you wouldn't, well I knew you wouldn't believe me."

Drew laughed cynically. "Like what?"

Helen pressed her lips together tightly before she replied, "I used to kill monsters. That was my job, hunting anything supernatural. Ghosts, vampires, werewolves-you name it. Just like my parents did, and their parents did before them, and I'm sure it just goes back for generations." A pained smile crossed her face. "You could say it was in my blood."

As she anticipated, Drew stared blankly back at her. Yep, that's the exact reaction she expected. Textbook are-you-out-of-your-freaking-mind? look. She frowned, but forced herself to focus on the real problem here. Her mind raced through scenarios, trying to figure out how to get Drew and the boys out of here, alive. Drew's panicked laugh interrupted her train of thought.

"You're kidding, right honey?" he asked cautiously. He watched Sasha pace back and forth out of the corner of his eye. Sasha replied before Helen could. "Nope! She told you the whole truth and nothin' but it, buddy. So now that hubby is all caught up, let's get back to why I'm here, shall we?"

Helen stammered, "Uh, well…why is that, Sasha?" She gauged the distance between herself and Drew. Too far to jump. She slid forward half a step as Sasha turned around to face Helen once more.

Sasha smiled serenely. "Let's see. You and crazy eyes killed my family. It turns out that crazy eyes is actually in a crazy house himself, and well, that's just too easy. No fun in easy game." (Helen shuddered at the phrase "easy game.") Sasha laughed heartily. "So. The only way I'm getting any payback is through you, Helen."

Helen inhaled sharply. That's what I was afraid of. Come on, if I can just get a little closer to Drew... Raising her hands in a shrug, she said, "Well, you've got me. Now what?" A dark look passed over Sasha's face, but Helen couldn't quite decipher it. Sasha looked down at her knife. Helen seized the opportunity and stepped toward Drew once more before she spoke up again, "How did you find me, anyway? My mom and Ash did a hell of a job covering my tracks. No one has been able to track me down for years." Drew eyed his wife warily, hopefully figuring out what she was attempting to do.

Sasha stepped between Helen and Drew and pointed her knife at Helen's chest. "Uh-uh, Helen-that's close enough." Her golden brown eyes were fierce, full of hatred. Helen backed up a few steps. "You didn't answer my question."

Sasha pondered it for a moment as she flipped her knife around in her hand. "The first few years after you murdered my family, I drifted. I got thrown into group home after group home before I finally just ran away, lived on my own." Sasha frowned before continuing her monologue, "You kept me going, ya know. After all the shit I had to endure, just the thought of making you suffer someday…that was all I needed to keep going." Staring into her reflection in the knife, the vampire pondered something silently, her face pensive.

Helen silently wondered if monologues were part of monster DNA. (As awful as Sasha's story was, she had to focus on something else to stay sharp.) Yep, yep...that one too... Helen ticked off her hunts in her head. ...don't think I've met a monster a monologue didn't love. Bobby would LOVE to study that.

Abruptly Sasha snapped out of it and right back into her speech. "One day it hit me that you weren't exactly going to kill yourself for me, so I finally started planning. Found a vampire outside of Tulsa, and he was oh so willing to turn me." She paused, then looked Helen square in the eye. "...then I started my own nest."

Helen swore her heart stopped beating right then. "Oh, Sasha, you didn't!" Helen cried out.

"I did!" Sasha squealed. Suddenly Helen's arms were pinned behind her back forcefully. "Helen, meet Tanya!" Helen managed to turn her head just enough to catch a glimpse of the honey blonde woman holding her back. Tanya noticed her stare and smiled wide enough to give Helen good look at her fangs. Before Helen could even think to fight back, everything went black.

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 ** _I'm unfortunately going to be unable to post for a while after tonight (moving, blah), so tell me what you think so far. Really, any input/critiques/fluff/etc. would be incredibly helpful. :) Finishing up some edits, then it's back to posting soon!_**

 ** _(Warning: next chapter gets a bit more gruesome) -H_**


	5. Chapter 5

**_Like I mentioned before, things get uglier in this chapter. :/ Proceed with caution (but please, proceed!)_**

* * *

Helen came to, sitting in a chair across from her family, with Tanya finishing some intricate knots on Helen's restraints. Her head lolled from the pain of the earlier blow. A muffled groan escaped past her lips, and Helen closed her eyes in frustration. _Well, there goes my element of surprise..._ The groan caught Sasha's attention. Her eyes slid over Helen's body, slumped down in the chair, and a hungry grin grew wide on her face. "Good, Sleeping Beauty is finally awake, and without a kiss from the Prince, no less," Sasha deadpanned, jerking her thumb in Drew's direction. Sasha continued her story. "Luckily, Tanya is a lot smarter than I am with electronics. It took us months, but…we found you. And here you are…once a bloodthirsty hunter, now ...a doctor? Ha! Got your own family and everything! I just can't get over the irony!" Sasha laughed maniacally. "How do you live with yourself?"

Helen rolled her eyes, sighing. "Sasha, you don't have to do this. Let my boys go. Let Drew go. This isn't their fight," Helen pleaded. Drew pulled at his ropes to no avail. "C'mon lady, let our kids go! They're just babies-what have they done to you?" he yelled at Sasha. Sasha spun around to face him again. "Ever hear the phrase, 'Paying for the sins of the father'? Change that to mother, and there ya go. And, sorry, but you're guilty by association." Sasha answered coldly. Helen found a loose space in one of her binds and began to rotate her wrist ever so subtly to free herself...because she was quickly running out of time. Sasha pulled out a roll of duct tape and tore off a piece. "Now say bye-bye to Helen," she told Drew.

Drew protested, "NO! Stop! Don't do this! Helen, I'm sorry. I lo-" Sasha cut him off, putting the tape over his mouth. He continued to struggle. "Oops, too slow, tough guy…" Sasha called out softly with a wink.

Helen shook her head at him and swallowed hard. "Drew? You have nothing to be sorry for, baby. This is all my fault. My fault, not yours. I should've...I should've told you before. I love you." She turned to look at Michael and Tyler, and struggled to steady her voice. "B-boys, it's gonna be ok. I know it's scary right now, but it will be ok. Mommy loves you, s-so much," Helen croaked out, her voice finally breaking.. "Sasha, please! They haven't hurt anyone!"

"No, but you have. It's going to kill you to watch them die. Just like I had to watch my family die. And once you're begging for me to kill you, I might actually oblige. So just get comfortable, Helen-you're going to be here for a while." Sasha sneered. She turned around to face Tyler. Helen tried to shut her eyes, but Tanya grabbed her too quickly and forced her eyelids open. "No way, bitch! You get to watch it all. Every. Single. Minute." Tanya snapped.

Tears crept down Helen's face. She tried to put on a brave face, but it was no use. Drew screamed through the tape. Helen looked into his eyes and couldn't help herself. She started apologizing repeatedly, "I'm so sorry, Drew. You don't deserve this. Sor-sorry…I'm s-so sorry…" Helen sobbed in despair.

Tanya and Sasha snickered. Sasha crouched in front of the youngest boy and studied him for a moment before telling him, "You know, this is all your mommy's fault..." Helen screamed as Sasha sliced into Tyler's fingers. Tyler screamed and squirmed helplessly. Drew lunged for Tanya and flipped the chair on its side. Once he hit the floor, he tried to push himself towards Tyler, but Tanya was quicker. She grabbed the chair and sat it back upright effortlessly, then hissed loudly at him. She waved a finger in his face. "Quit trying to escape, already!" Tanya yelled, clearly annoyed that he refused to stop fighting. Drew fixed her with a deadly glare and flailed against the ropes again. Seeing Drew's determination, Sasha yelled over her shoulder, "Tanya, he'll keep fighting back. Just kill him, will you?" Helen shrieked at her, "NOOOO!" But Tanya grinned wickedly and said, "Don't mind if I do…" as she savagely bit into his neck.

Helen screamed hoarsely as Drew faded into death. Tanya stood up and wiped the blood from her mouth with the back of her hand. She exchanged a satisfied look with Sasha before Sasha abruptly slit Tyler's throat. Helen squeezed her eyes shut and yelled in agony. Looking at the blood pooling in Tyler's lap, Sasha shrugged her shoulders and said, "I really shouldn't be wasteful." She then leaned down to the boy's throat, drinking greedily until he stopped bleeding.

A wordless moan escaped Helen before she began to sob again. "Let him go, please. Just stop this. Just stop." Helen begged. Spinning around, Sasha walked towards Helen slowly. A smile spread across her face as she replied, "Oh no, doll face. This is even better than I planned!" Sasha placed the tip of her bloodstained knife beneath Helen's chin and lifted Helen's head to meet her gaze. "You really should've thought about this before you slaughtered my family, you know. What right did you EVER have to be happy, when you took away mine?" she said serenely.

Helen swallowed with difficulty, knowing her next answer would probably be her last, no matter what she said. "Martin and I NEVER meant to hurt you, Sasha-you have to know that. You think they were your family, but they were only using you. I've seen it before." Helen choked back a sob and looked up at Sasha. "Those vamps you called 'family'? They killed six people before we even showed up, and more before we got to them! Your memory is pretty selective if you've forgotten what your 'family' did to dozens of people!" Helen was shaking with rage but couldn't afford to let it cloud her judgment, not now. "Me and Martin? We only stopped killers. THEY were murderers-not us." Helen finished, and tried to steady her shaking hands. She also couldn't afford to draw Sasha's attention to her hands.

Sasha cut in, "Ah, feeling bold now, are we? You really wanna risk your only son's life to get in a last shot at me?" she casually inquired, a malicious smirk playing at the corner of her mouth.

Helen fixed her with a glare full of hatred, then took a deep breath. "I think you want to kill him anyway, and I think you want me to have to live with it, like you did. You need to know something, though."

"What's that?" Sasha asked her rashly.

"You let me live? Nothing-not even the end of the world-will keep me from hunting you down." Helen replied coldly. "If you do this-you even harm one hair on Michael's head-I will not stop until you're six feet under, and I keep my promises, _doll face_." Helen's nares flared and eyes narrowed as she spat out the last sentence.

Sasha hesitated for a moment, almost fearful of what Helen was threatening. Then, she shot a confused look at Tanya. Tanya tilted her head to the side, raising her eyebrows in confusion back at Sasha. While they considered their next move, Helen kept trying to free her wrists from the ropes. She nearly had her right wrist out of the rope when Sasha slid in front of Michael. _No._

"Sasha, I'm begging you. Don't do this. Leave Michael alone! Don't hurt him!" Helen cried out. There was no way she could get to him in time... Sasha sighed loudly and gestured towards Michael. "I keep my promises too, Helen. I promised my family I would make someone pay for their deaths, and I'm keeping that promise." "Close your eyes, baby," Helen instructed. Michael looked at his mother for one last time before squeezing his eyes shut. Helen had barely opened her mouth in protest when Sasha stabbed him through the heart. His head sunk forward, lifeless. Helen scanned her family's now peaceful faces, breathing heavily. _Dead. They're...really gone. No. NO._ She felt something inside her snap.

 _No more games_ , Helen thought. She left her right arm where it was and twisted her left wrist beneath the ropes. _Almost_ , she grunted with the exertion. _No way in hell that bitch is walking out of here alive_.

Suddenly, Helen smelled gasoline. She froze and turned to see Tanya walk back into the room pouring the liquid everywhere, all over Drew and the boys, and finished with a circle around Helen. Helen shook her head furiously. "You coward…you spineless bitch…" Helen sputtered furiously. "What, can't finish the big kill yourself?"

Sasha smiled proudly. "Kill you, destroy the evidence…it's really just a win-win for me. By the time you're dead, I'll be two counties over celebrating, and Tanya already has an alibi." Helen raised an eyebrow at her, but said nothing. Sasha blew Tanya a kiss, then knelt in front of Helen. "You deserved everything you got, you self-righteous bitch, and I don't regret anything." She stood up to glare down at Helen. "Family is more than blood. They were all I had. Enjoy your funeral by fire." Sasha winked at her before walking out the back door.

Helen swore under her breath as Tanya lit a match. She faced Helen, smiling smugly, but before she could drop the match, Helen landed a right cross square on her jaw. Tanya stumbled backwards, dropping the match at the far end of the room. The flames caught rapidly. Helen raced to untie her ankles before Tanya could recover. She was nearly free when Tanya stood up and ran back to Helen. Helen kicked her hard in the gut with her free leg, and Tanya groaned. As she freed her other leg, Helen ran to the kitchen, with Tanya closing in on her. "You're not getting outta here alive!" she yelled after Helen.

Vampire strength aside, Tanya was still no match for Helen's skill. Helen put up her fists and jabbed hard at the vampire's face and torso. Tanya doubled over with a groan, giving Helen time search for something to gank the bitch with. _Damnit, where did I put the butcher knife again?_ Tanya recovered and snuck up behind Helen again. This time, she grabbed Helen's hair and shoved her head into the nearest wall. Helen reared back to throw Tanya off of her, but she wouldn't budge. Dazed but determined, Helen twisted and flipped Tanya over her shoulder, slamming her onto the floor. She was quickly running out of time as the fire roared to life. She had searched every drawer hastily, but no cigar. Finally she looked up and saw a large butcher's knife hanging above her head. Helen's hand had wrapped around its handle just as Tanya lunged at her once more. Helen swung the blade at Tanya's neck with all her might. With a dull thud, Tanya's head hit the floor and rolled away from her body. "Looks like you were wrong, bitch," Helen muttered as she stepped over the dead vampire.

She drug Tanya's body into the dining room. Before she tossed her into the flames, an idea popped into her head. Helen paused first to take Tanya's phone then hurried through the rest of her last minute plan. Helen ran past the bodies of her family and paused. She couldn't leave them like this. _It's too late, Hel. They're long gone._ Still, she stopped to kiss each one on the cheek one last time as the tears flowed down her face. Running down the stairs, Helen grabbed what she could from the basement: her father's knife and journal, the duffel bag under the stairs (not even Drew had known it was there), her wallet, and a burner phone for emergencies. She prayed that her sister's number was in there. Jo changed phones like she changed underwear, and Helen could rarely keep up with which one was current.

Helen started up the stairs when she remembered the locket her father had given her mother. _Might as well try, right?_ she thought. She pushed herself to run up the stairs faster, and jogged into their bedroom. Even with the smoke growing thicker by the second, Helen quickly found it and tucked it into her pocket. Without hesitation, she grabbed the picture next to it as well and tore back down the stairs. The fire had reached the stairway, which meant Helen had two choices-through the fire, or jump from the second story. _So death, or...death._ _Great_.She used her momentum to jump over the banister away from the highest flames, and immediately dropped to the floor to roll out whatever flames had caught her.

She briefly checked her shoulder and arm. Seeing no more flames, Helen took off out the back door with the duffel, tossing the wallet (minus the cash) behind her. She didn't stop running until she collapsed into a field, coughing and sobbing. Using her hands, she dug a small hole, just deep enough for Tanya's head, and buried it. Helen tried to stand, but as soon as the scenery began spinning, she dropped to her knees. Her knees were too weak to support her exhausted body and gave out, sending her flailing backwards. The tall grass cushioned her fall, thankfully. She looked around at the field calmly, until her grief tore its way to the surface. _Why?_ was all Helen could think before she drifted into unconsciousness.

* * *

 _ **:( Ooh, it hurt to write that. Aggghh, the damn feels!**_

 _ **Unfortunately, only Helen's survived, for now. This is my first try at action sequences, so tell me how it worked. If you've kept up with the story, thanks for reading! We will have some familiar faces next chapter, so stay tuned! -H**_


	6. Chapter 6

**_I've included elements of the episode, but of course it's still OC. Not nearly as violent/graphic as last chapter, promise!_**

* * *

Helen startled awake...in a field. _I'm...in a field. Ooook._ She couldn't immediately remember why the hell she was there in the first place. A quick inventory of her senses told Helen she was neither drunk nor hung over, so it begged the question again. _Why the hell am I in a field?_ It was dark outside, and judging by the moon, it had to be around midnight? She tried to stand up slowly but promptly staggered back to the ground.

 _Ah, right. Now I remember,_ she thought. That last word hung in her mind, like a neon sign pointing the way to the awful, terri- _No._ She refused to think about it, not yet anyway.

She laid on her side for a little longer this time before she attempted standing again. She looked around as she stood, spotting a few buildings in the distance. With not much success, Helen half-crawled, half-limped her way to an abandoned barn nearby. Searing pain made its way through her upper body, but she continued on until she found water. Helen gulped what she could, and then started tending to her burns. Her jacket had melted into her skin in several places over her right shoulder and arm, so Helen gritted her teeth as she peeled away what she could.

"GAHHHHH SON OF A BITCH!" _So much for the stoic route,_ she lamented.

She quickly threw water over the burns before assessing the damage. Inhaling sharply as her eyes teared up, she realized most of the burns weren't as bad off as they felt. Helen went about dressing her wounds with what few supplies she had, trying her best to think of nothing at all. It didn't work. She managed to cover the deepest burns before the grief stopped her. She let it swell then cascade over her, one wave of pain at a time. What few tears she had left raced one another down her face, staining the neck of her light blue scrubs a dingy grey. Helen could barely think through her wound care, let alone what her next step would be, so she gave up for the moment and propped herself up in a corner to rest.

Helen's flew open at the sound of a gunshot and panicked. The sound came again, but this time she realized it was just a tractor backfiring. She rubbed her eyes, trying to fully wake up, and checked her watch. It was 1:00 p.m. _Jesus, I slept for twelve straight hours?!_ Helen jumped to her feet before remembering her burns and cried out in pain. Gingerly, she checked the burns to find nothing looked worse than it had twelve hours ago and left them alone. She walked slowly around the barn to see if any supplies were left behind. There was a row of hooks on the inner wall, and she spied a door next to it. Inside she found an old rain slicker, boots, and a few other miscellaneous items. Helen grabbed the jacket and boots and packed up to go.

As she snuck around the corner of the barn, Helen didn't see anyone and sighed with relief. Honestly, she had no idea what she would do, or what she would even say if she actually ran into anyone. She put her hands in her pockets and walked back in the direction she came from last night. Her fingers grazed something metal. _Keys? Yes. Keys were good_. She pulled them out to inspect them-car keys-and started looking around for vehicles. She spotted another building about fifty yards away. _Maybe a garage?_ she hoped. At this point, Helen didn't care if she got caught.

She ran as fast as her body could manage until she reached the building. Peering through the doors, she saw a few heavy duty pieces of farm equipment and a couple of trucks. The doors opened with little trouble. Helen made her way inside and tested both trucks. The keys matched up to the old blue Chevy pickup, so she hopped in and tried to crank it. Nothing happened. _Shit. Come on, baby..._ A few tries later, it grumbled to life. "Good thing you had keys, 'cause I haven't hotwired a car in years," she murmured softly to the truck as she patted the dashboard. Checking the burner phone, Helen realized she had never gotten around to putting any emergency numbers in the phone, and she was too fried (figuratively and literally) to remember any of them. _Son of a bitch!_ she swore at herself and hit the steering wheel in frustration. It didn't matter, because she knew plan B by heart. She put the truck into gear and began the long drive to Bobby's place.

* * *

A few hours later, Helen pulled into Singer's Salvage yard. As she parked, she thought of the last time she had seen Bobby and smiled sadly. Even though she had thought quitting the "life" was her best option, Helen never really recovered from cutting Bobby out of hers. He was family, plain and simple. She grabbed her duffel and stumbled to the door, knocking persistently. Her voice caught in her throat, still raw from smoke inhalation, but she managed to croak out a whisper, "B-bobby? Bobby it's me!"

The door finally swung open, revealing a shocked, wheelchair-bound Bobby. Her relief at the familiar face temporarily overcame the shock of the wheelchair. "Bobby!"

He shook his head quickly, obviously confused. "Helen?! What the hell are you doing here? Come on, get in here." He ushered her in the house and added, "You looked like run over crap, honey."

Helen laughed hollowly as she followed Bobby inside. "Gee thanks. What's next-'You look fat'? By the way, what happened to you? Mom never mentioned…this," Helen replied as she gestured to the chair. Bobby rolled his eyes and ignored the question. Helen shot him an exasperated look but followed him into the den and collapsed onto the couch; meanwhile the older hunter made his way to the fridge. She breathed in the odd combination of Old Spice, young whiskey, and old books and relaxed. His home was exactly as she remembered it. Stacks upon stacks of books and papers were littered haphazardly with whiskey bottles scattered around the room, or so it would appear to the untrained observer. Helen knew better. Bobby was a genius, no doubt, but his house was organized like his brain. Which, of course, was like a Rubik's cube-there was a method (albeit an unknown, well hidden method) to the madness.

"Since you asked, it was a demon thing," he replied with a snarky growl as he rolled back in with a beer. Her face pulled into a sympathetic half-frown. "Sorry Bobby." He waved it off, but Helen didn't buy it. She decided to save it for later.

Helen thanked him and promptly chugged the beer. He raised his eyebrows at her. "Uh, I know the Apocalypse is going on and all, but I promise there is more beer where that came from…" he said, carefully eyeing her reaction. She shook her head wryly as the tears crept back down her face. She covered her eyes with her hand and tried to take a deep breath.

Bobby fixed her with his usual stare, but softened when he noticed the tears. "Hel, not that it's not good to see you or anything, but what are you doing here? I thought you got out for good."

Helen nodded and swallowed hard. "I thought I did too, but, uh…my last hunt, Bobby. You remember that one, with Martin?"

He nodded, adding, "The vamp nest outside Spokane, right? Yeah, I remember. Ended bloody, if memory serves right."

Helen hung her head and agreed. "It did, except for their human blood bank. We, uh, thought we had explained everything. Dropped her at a hospital, and took off."

Bobby swore and rubbed his temples. "Damnit Helen…you didn't. You know better than that. _I_ taught you better than that!"

"I know, I know. But I couldn't…kill…a little girl. She was only eight years old, I think? She didn't deserve that."

Bobby interrupted her, "Ah." He laughed shortly and reluctantly admitted, "If I didn't know any better, I would've sworn you were a Winchester there for a second."

Helen rolled her eyes. "Please. Like John would've even hesitated to gank her-"

"Wasn't talkin' 'bout John, honey. I meant his boys. Tough as nails, don't get me wrong, but they don't always shoot first, not now, anyway," Bobby interjected.

Helen feigned a smile, but her trembling lip refused to cooperate, despite Bobby's attempt at levity. "Bobby. That girl? She was so _brainwashed_ by them, that she considered that nest her _family_. So brainwashed, th-that she got herself turned, just to track me down for revenge."

Bobby's face went slack. "Oh, Helly…no…"

"Bobby she killed them. Dr-drew, Michael…e-even Tyler. Made me watch…everything," Helen started sobbing, "and then the crazy bitch tried to burn me alive! But I got away." Bobby rolled over directly in front of Helen. "I got away," Helen blubbered again. She looked up at him and collapsed into his arms. Bobby held her tightly as she wept into his shoulder. "I'm so sorry Helly. I'm so sorry."

* * *

He handed her a towel, and she dried off her face. "I'm sorry to just barge in on you, Bobby, but I didn't have any numbers saved, all my back-up info is ash now, and Mom and Jo change their phones like toilet paper anyway…" she trailed off. He shook his head at her. "You're family. 's no trouble."

As she looked at Bobby, she noticed he had winced when she mentioned her mother. "Bobby, where's Mom? And Jo?"

Bobby abruptly rolled to the kitchen, and Helen followed. _Either he's gone soft on me, or he's hiding something._ She passed by multiple open books and paused to look at them-they were all turned to pages mentioning death with a capital "D". _Death...why is that so important?_ she asked herself urgently. Slowly she realized that Bobby hadn't mentioned Mom or Jo once since she'd arrived. She wracked her brain but couldn't make it work fast enough to figure out why her instincts were practically yelling at her.

"Bobby!" she yelled after him. He was pouring himself two whiskeys. Helen stood behind him tapping her foot anxiously. "Bobby, what aren't you telling me?" she said softly. He grabbed both drinks, handed Helen one, and gestured to the table. Helen sat down, her hands shaking slightly.

"Helly…your mom… She told you what they were planning, right?" Bobby began slowly.

Helen replied, "Uh, yeah. Said something about the boys had gotten the Colt from a demon, so they were gonna go after the Devil himself… Wait. Bobby. No, no…did the job go south-"

Bobby cut in, "They got ambushed by Hellhounds. Jo jumped in front of Dean and got hurt, bad. Ellen and the boys managed to get her outta there, holed up in a store for a while, but...there was no way of getting her out, Helen, not with her injuries. They were surrounded...dozens of Hellhounds. Your sister-no way your mom was leaving her behind, and-"

"Bobby…no, they-no, they... Please tell me they're ok."

"-Lucifer was still in town, they still had the Colt. So, they, uh, built a bomb-"

Helen's eyes widened at the word _bomb_. "They blew the store, Helly. Ellen and Jo-they took a bunch of Hellhounds with 'em-gave Sam and Dean a chance to get away and go after the son of a bitch himself." Bobby stammered. "They're, they're gone, honey. I'm sorry…" Tears welled in his eyes as Bobby hung his head.

Helen went numb. _No, this can't be...happening...first Drew and the boys, then-_ Suddenly a light bulb went off (and shattered) in her mind. She gently placed her hand on Bobby's arm. "Bobby…did Mom watch the news last night? Did she, er, _see_ anything-about Drew and the kids? About... _me_?"

His face answered her question with a sullen, remorseful expression. Bobby nodded mournfully. "She couldn't get ahold of you, and then saw the news…put two and two together."

Helen wrung her hands together around the glass. "Jo, too?" Bobby nodded again.

Helen couldn't hold it together any longer and burst into tears. "They…went on a suicide mission…thinking no one else was left. That I was…"

Bobby clasped her hands in his. "This is NOT your fault. You hear me?" Helen shook her head violently, refusing to accept it. Bobby shook her arms to snap her out of it and continued. "They saw a smidge of a shot to maybe save this godforsaken world, and they _took_ it. It was awful, thinking you were gone, Hel. _Awful_. But instead of falling apart over their fro-yo, they were hell bent on giving that snowball's of a snowball's chance a shot, save anyone they could. From where I'm sittin', they were damn brave to even try. And they would've done it whether you were six feet under or not." He held her gaze until she nodded, reluctantly. Together they drank to Ellen and Jo's memory, tears flowing with no sign of stopping.

* * *

 ** _Bobby is a tough nut to crack, so hopefully I've done him justice here. This isn't the last we see of Bobby-don't worry. ;)_**

 ** _I'd love to hear any thoughts on the story so far-it would actually be super helpful for future chapters! Thanks for reading, if you're still with me! -H_**


	7. Chapter 7

_**Alrighty gang, finally got the next chapter finished! (Everyone in the house rotated being sick for the past week or so, ugh. Finally catching up now.)**_

 _ **More Bobby :) What can I say, I just love the old coot!**_

* * *

They sat in silence for a long time after that. Eventually, they drained their glasses and Bobby went for another bottle, the good stuff this time. Helen furrowed her brows at Bobby. "You goin' soft on me, old man?" she asked. "You normally wouldn't pull the good whiskey out for anyone, not even if the Pope himself happened to stumble in here."

Bobby's pained expression was momentarily lifted by a low chuckle, followed closely by eye rolling. "Don't let it go to your head, kid." The expression returned as quickly as it had left. He looked out the window, shaking his head. "'sides, not sure His Pope-liness would even know how to properly appreciate it," he grumbled.

"Your wit is as sparkling as ever Bobby." Helen snickered and set the glass back down, taking a moment to rub her tense neck muscles.

A puzzled look passed over Bobby's face. "Wait a minute. They found _four_ bodies in the house. Who's dead body number four?" he asked.

The corner of her mouth curled into a lopsided grin. "The other vamp that was there. Guess I ain't as rusty as I thought," Helen admitted sheepishly. She cleared her throat. "Figured faking my death was probably a better option than explaining…well, _everything_."

Bobby shot her a somewhat impressed look. "You figured right on that one. What'd you do with the vamp's noggin?"

"Buried it on my way out, 'bout half a mile away from the house."

He nodded. "Atta girl." He started to roll back into the den and paused to look her in the eye. "Anything you need, you know, you can…just ask."

She smiled. "Yeah, being dead has its pros and cons, huh?"

"Ha, that it does."

"Right now, new name, couple of ID's to back it up-just until I can get back on my feet." He frowned at the mention of _feet_. _Guess it's still a sensitive subject..._ "Er, no offense?"

"Idjit. Yeah, of course I can. I'll float you some cash, too." Bobby said nonchalantly.

Helen shook her head no. "Bobby, I can't ask you for that. I'll find a way."

Bobby hit the arm of his wheelchair with a solid fist. "Damnit girl, I know you got nothin' to your name but the clothes on your back and that stolen hunk of bolts out front. Just let me help. Not exactly like ya had time to swing by the bank on the way out of a two-alarm fire..."

"I happen to like that truck," Helen mumbled sullenly.

Bobby continued his rant, ignoring her, "So, just…let me help. Least I can do." This time he fixed her with his patented steely glare for emphasis.

It worked. _Crap. The m_ _an's still got it._ She met his gaze and closed her eyes. " _Fine_... Yes sir. Thank you." She replied. Exhaustion reared its ugly head again, and Helen wasn't game to fight it. She trudged up the stairs, plopped onto the first bed available, and closed her eyes.

* * *

As Bobby finished the last ID, his phone rang. "Bobby? You there?" came the gruff, breathless voice.

"Dean? Thank God! Er, sorta. What happened? Did you boys get 'im?" Bobby replied hurriedly.

Helen snapped awake as she heard Bobby talking to someone. _Wonder who that is...kinda late, even for a hunt..._ She walked in and sat next to Bobby as Dean spoke. "Damnit, no! The Colt didn't even faze the son of a bitch! Bobby…what do we do now?"

"Balls!" Bobby swore. "You and Sam just get back here in one piece. We'll…figure something out." Helen heard Dean slam something down loudly, followed by an impressive string of profanity.

"Dean…I know. Nothing we can do right now. Just…come back to the house and we'll start back at square one." They said goodbye and hung up.

Helen closed her eyes tightly. She remembered the conversation with her mom vividly, with Helen explicitly asking if they were positive, _really absolutely positive_ , that the infamous gun could even hurt Lucifer, let alone _kill_ him. The phone call from Dean, confirming what she suspected all along? Well that just twisted the knife already buried in her heart. Helen clutched at the invisible wound in her chest, a weak attempt to ease the pain.

Bobby turned to Helen, shaking his head angrily. "Bobby, it's ok. I heard. I'm ok." She paused, seeing Bobby's crestfallen face. "Real question is, are you ok?" she asked him.

Bobby pushed himself into the kitchen, grabbing the bottle this time. "Do I look ok?" he spat out. "All that effort. Ellen…Jo…everything they went through. And for what?! Squat, that's what!" He twisted the top off and drained the last of the whiskey.

"No, it wasn't! You were right the first time, Bobby! They were trying to save people. That's all we've ever wanted to do! And, at the very least, they saved Sam and Dean. That's _not_ nothing."

Bobby turned his back to Helen. She marched around the wheelchair and knelt in from of him. "It's not ok that they're dead, by any means…but sacrificing themselves to save even one other person?" Helen's voice caught in her throat when Bobby raised his eyes to meet hers. "That…now _that_ is worth something. I can live with that."

Bobby sniffed loudly. "I guess I'll drink to that." He reevaluated his statement as he remembered the empty bottle in his hand. "Uh, scratch that. I'ma _keep_ drinking to that. You know where my stash is-" he jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "Mind getting the next one?"

* * *

Helen jogged back down the stairs with a .38 and a sawed-off 12 gauge in hand. She looked them over before tossing them in the bag. "Thanks again, Bobby. I'll bring 'em back when I can get my hands on a couple of other ones."

He shook his head and handed her a few boxes of ammo. "Don't even think about it, Hel. Consider them yours."

She smiled and hugged him. "You're the best, Bobby," she replied, giving him a peck on the cheek.

"I did get a bead on that vamp you're looking' for…if you're ready to get started, that is." He eyed her warily before continuing. "Her GPS puts her right around Oklahoma City as of an hour ago. Not much to go on, but it's a start."

Helen rubbed her temple before speaking, "No, it's plenty. She let slip that she went dark side in Tulsa, so dollars to donuts she's headed that way." She stopped to consider his first question. "And hell yes. This is all I have right now, so I'm all in."

Bobby studied at her for a minute before he said, "Sure you don't want any help on this? Not that you can't handle yourself, but this is your first hunt in, what, 11, 12 years? I'm sure I could wrangle up a couple different hunters within a few hours, if you wanted."

Helen politely declined, giving the hunter a once over. "No. This ain't just any hunt and you know it. I gotta do this one on my own. Finish what I started."

Something he said triggered another question she had wanted to ask him earlier. "By the way…do they even know I exist?"

"Who, Sam and Dean?" he answered, raising an eyebrow at her. "Not as far as I know. Once you got out, Ellen never mentioned you to anyone 'cept Jo or Ash, and rarely even to me. Ever."

"Well, then this probably ain't the best time for meet-and-greets." Helen tilted her head as her eyebrows knit together thinking of the awkwardness. " _'Hey, I'm Helen, you just had to watch my mom and sister die_ …' doesn't exactly sound like it'd go over well. I'm sure I'll run into them down the road." Bobby smirked at the thought.

Helen thought about it again. "Actually... Uh, Bobby? Maybe we should just let our paths cross, eventually… you know, let fate do its thing..." she trailed off.

Bobby caught on and responded knowingly, "If you happen to come up, run into the idjits, vice versa…I get it. Probably for the best, anyway," he finished with a smirk.

Curious, Helen asked, "Why's that?"

Bobby laughed, his first real laugh since Helen had been there. "Because you're a dead ringer your sister, and, let's just say Dean has a weakness for, well, _any_ pretty girl."

Helen doubled over with laughter. "Oh my God Bobby, you're worse than Mom! Are you really that protective of me?" Her eyebrow shot up questioningly as she stood back up.

"Damn right I am!" Bobby replied. Under his breath, Helen swore she heard him mutter _"...'course, you're the closest I ever had to a daughter, ya idjit."_ Or something like that. Either way, she couldn't deny that she appreciated the fatherly gesture.

Helen gave him another hug. "Well I'm not exactly a helpless damsel..." _Back in college,_ he _would've been the one needing protecting,_ Helen admitted to herself. "I can take care of myself, you old coot…but thanks for caring."

"Whatever. Roll credits on this drama, already. And keep me posted." Bobby called after her.

Helen threw the duffel bag into the truck, waved sadly, and drove away from her only "home" left standing.

* * *

Helen had just crossed into Iowa when she had to stop for gas. While the tank drank away her first $80 from Bobby, Helen picked up a few local papers and started perusing them. Nothing too weird around here, but there was a story that sounded strange…and as luck would have it, the vic was from Tulsa. _All signs point there_.

She picked up Tanya's phone and considered something very dumb, momentarily. The GPS was already off on the phone, so it's not like Sasha could track it anyway, Helen rationalized. On the other hand, Sasha only called once. Helen's best bet was that Sasha had watched the news and assumed the worst when Tanya didn't answer. She shrugged to herself and voted for the dumb move. She scrolled through Tanya's contacts, but didn't find 'Sasha' anywhere in them. Helen pursed her lips, frustrated. Looking through them again, Helen found an entry for 'Mother Dearest' and clicked on it. _Seriously... 'Mother'? Predictable._ She clicked again to dial the number. It rang once before the line went dead. "Damn. That's exactly what I would do," she said aloud. The pump clicked off, and Helen got back on the road. _So Sasha isn't completely dumb. So what. I've still got the Tulsa lead. It's just the beginning of the puzzle, Hel._ Helen reassured herself silently. No turning back...she had work to do.

* * *

 _ **Sorry for Dean's short-lived appearance, but I felt like I went too long without a Winchester appearance! (And what can I say, I love Dean!)**_ _ **Ahh that episode...right in the feels EVERY time! I may edit later on to include more of it, but I don't want to oversaturate with episode snippets just yet.**_

 _ **I'm having fun with Helen/Bobby banter. Can you tell? :P As always, any input/critiques/love is always welcome!**_

 _ **sunshine1984: Ah thanks so much! Keep me honest, kay?!**_

 _ **If you're still with me, thanks! -H**_


	8. Chapter 8

_**Thanks for the review/follows! Hope to hear from y'all again soon. I was going to put more into this chapter, but I just haven't had the time to sit down and properly fine tune the rest of Helen's first hunt out of 'retirement.' (Trying to *finally* get the rest of our stuff unpacked. Man, moving sucks sometimes!) So here's what I have-let me know what you think! (I may have chunked a couple more references in there for kicks and giggles...)**_

* * *

Helen finally rolled into Tulsa late that evening and decided against picking up the trail immediately. Instead, she found a cheap motel and called it a night. She salted the windows and doors instinctively, then grabbed her duffel. Now that she had time, Helen wanted to go through what was left of her belongings, plus the supplies she got from Bobby.

The zipper gave way easily, and Helen started with what she pulled out of the fire. Her fingers grazed the locket first. Helen held it at eye level for a closer inspection. It was silver, plain, with a single H engraved on the front. Inside, there was a picture of her family from when she was around eight or nine. They all looked so, _happy_. Something hit her thigh with a plop. Helen looked down at the tear stain on her jeans. She hadn't even realized she was crying.

Wiping away the tears, she pulled the chain over her head. The locket hung beneath her clothes, and that was fine with Helen. Out of sight, but not out of mind.

As she pulled out her remaining items, she caught a glimpse of her wedding set on her left hand. She inhaled sharply and pried the rings off of her finger. _Can't leave them behind, can't leave them on. What do I do with them?_ Helen considered it for a few moments before she remembered the locket. She deftly threaded the rings onto the chain, so that they hung with the locket. Smiling to herself, she refastened the chain. For the first time since that terrible night, Helen was hit with the realization that she was a widow.

* * *

The next morning, Helen made her way to the nearest precinct to begin her search. She flashed her badge at the desk and asked if there was a file for the dead guy from the obituary, Derek Smith. The receptionist pointed her to the bullpen and gave her the name of the detective. Groaning internally, Helen trudged to the desk, finding Det. Shepherd knee-deep in paperwork. _Ahh paperwork, I already don't miss those days_. "Detective Shepherd?" she called out. "Agent Miller. May I join you?"

He begrudgingly answered. "Yeah, sure. Knock yourself-" He stopped short as he looked up at Helen, and tilted his head in approval. "-out." He motioned towards the chair next to him.

Helen raised an eyebrow at him in nonverbal appreciation and smirked. "Thanks. The Bureau has me looking into Derek Smith's death. Got anything to go on?" She gave him a small smile as she sat down, hoping to encourage more motivation out of the weary cop. The bags under his eyes, the 5 o'clock shadow, wrinkled shirt... _Looks like he's been here all night, and not by choice._

Something perked up in him. "Why the hell is the FBI interested in this, anyhow? Drifter dies, and suddenly the feds...care?" He asked sardonically.

She coughed out a cynical laugh. "No, not really. He just so happened to be the third drifter in just as many states to die like this. Similar MO, over state lines...you know the drill, uh..." She clumsily hinted around for his first name.

"Chance."

"Chance. Helen." She smiled widely and stuck out her hand. He shook it firmly and returned a faint smile.

"'Kay, so I'm guessin' you want everything I've got, right?" His expression darkened, likely at the prospect of the usual fed takeover.

"Whatever you have would be incredibly helpful. I've got nothing to go on but random dead guys who got dead the same way." She shrugged. "Not takin' over, if that's what you're thinking."

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Really," he deadpanned. "Sure 'bout that?"

"Positive. Cross my heart." Helen made the motion over her chest and grinned. That coaxed a hint of a smile out of Chance. _Yahtzee._

* * *

After Chance the debonair detective was reassured that Helen wasn't pulling rank, he proved to be _very_ helpful. He left her at his desk to view the security tape of the gas station where the vic was last seen. Helen flipped through pages of credit card statements until she saw the vic pull into the frame. Zooming in, she watched him fill up, get ready to leave, then suddenly change his mind and walk into the store. She flipped over to the camera feed from inside the store at the same time stamp just in time to see Derek chat up a young dark-haired woman at the counter. He paid for a lighter and motioned for the woman to follow him. "Come on doll, look up. Just once..." Helen pleaded with the image. As the pair walked out of the store, the woman briefly looked up-long enough to give Helen something to go on. She tweaked the resolution and zoomed in again before she gripped the edge of the desk tightly. It was her. Sasha _did_ kill this guy. Quickly Helen went back to the receipts from the store-there was one three minutes before Derek's. _Has to be her._ Helen copied down the info and rushed out of the station.

She flew into the motel parking lot and raced to her room. Finding her laptop, she dusted off her rusty hacking skills (or lack thereof) and rapidly typed in the credit card info. The internet connection was painstakingly slow, but it finally yielded some results. No ID with the card, but she had used the name 'Sasha Smith.'

"Could you _be_ more obvious?" she mumbled sarcastically. "Thank God you're not the brightest bulb..."

Helen searched through all the recent charges, trying to figure out where Sasha was hiding out. Finally she found what looked like a room charge and called the motel. _Gotcha, bitch_. The clerk informed Helen that the 'guest' was still there but due to check out soon. He gave her the motel's address and her room number. She thanked him before hanging up. _Should've moonlighted as a FBI agent_ years _ago, could've saved myself a couple of tickets._ Helen packed up, checked out, and peeled out of the parking lot.

Sasha's room was at the very end of the motel. _Perfect. Thanks for cornering yourself for me._ Helen backed into parking spot-close enough for her to see the door, but far enough to keep from raising suspicions-and got comfortable. Several hours and Redbulls later, the door finally opened. That perked Helen up PDQ. She slid down in her seat and peeked over the dash. Sasha pranced out of the door, giddy, and made her way to a beat-up gray Camry.

 _Airheaded skank._ Helen's rage bubbled just under the surface, threatening to take over. Helen closed her eyes. _Focus, damn it. Do not screw this up._

Sasha flipped her hair around and smiled back in the direction of the door. _What the..._ Helen's head whipped back to the door just in time to see a scruffy guy, looked to be in his mid-twenties, walk out the door and hop into the passenger seat of the Camry. _Shit!_ _That must be the vamp who turned her._ Helen dropped her head back against the seat roughly. "How the hell am I gonna get her away from him?" she quietly asked herself. The car drove away, and Helen began tailing them.

They drove to a bar and went inside, so Helen kept going before circling back, hoping they didn't notice her following them. It looked as though there were just the two exits, but there was no way to stay hidden while watching both of them. Deciding to focus on the front door, she parked across the street at a diner and waited. Helen knew the odds weren't good against two relatively young vampires, but she crossed her fingers that maybe a little alcohol could swing the odds back in her favor.

Helen had had about as much caffeine as her body could possibly handle-more like a _week's_ worth of caffeine in five hours-and still her head was bobbing. "Come on already...shouldn't you already be sideways dollface?" Helen moaned at Sasha. The vampire apparently had some serious bar-hopping stamina. (This was the second bar in as many hours, and the duo was getting back in the car for bar numero tres.) Helen begrudgingly put the truck back into gear and followed at a distance. This time, they turned around-back in the direction of the motel.

Male model vamp was driving, but he didn't get out this time. _He's just dropping her back off?_ Helen thanked her lucky stars. Sasha swayed slightly on her way back into her room, and she giggled loudly enough for Helen to hear halfway across the parking lot. Helen's mouth curled into a cruel smile. She was looking at the perfect prey.

* * *

The lights finally went off in Sasha's room. Helen waited long enough for Sasha to begin drifting off before she made her move. She reached for her duffel and noticed her hand shaking, almost imperceptibly. Gritting her teeth, she tightened her grip on the canvas and quickly surveyed her supplies. She grabbed what she needed and hopped out of the truck. Helen quietly crept up to the door and listened closely for a beat-snoring. _Bingo._ The door was locked. _No bingo_. Helen fumbled with her lock pick momentarily, until thankfully muscle memory kicked in. With a dull _click_ , Helen was in.

For the first minute, she held her breath, praying that she hadn't awakened the girl. Silence followed and reassured her that the coast remained clear. Lightly she padded into the room to find Sasha sprawled face down on the bed. Helen readied her cuffs and approached the bed. With a feather light touch, Helen slid one of Sasha's wrists into the cuffs without even a twitch from the vampire. She repeated the process on the other wrist. Still nothing. Helen was beginning to wonder if this was... _too_ easy. She checked the doorways once more and peeked around the curtain at the parking lot. Not a hint of anything, but Helen's super-Spidey-hunter senses weren't going off just yet either. Back to the task at hand, Helen deftly slipped a bag over Sasha's head. Now for the hard part...getting her to the truck.

No sooner than Helen had slid her hand underneath Sasha's arm did the vampire finally stir. She instinctively froze, but truthfully, she was grateful. Now she could knock the vamp out cold, for real, rather than trust copious quantities of alcohol to keep her down. Sasha still wasn't awake yet, but she was mobile enough. Helen took advantage of this and pulled her up off the bed. The motion was just enough to trigger a response from Sasha. "Ehhh, what's ha-ap-ppening?" She slurred.

"Er, surprise! Secret club, can't let you see where you're going," Helen growled in a deep voice. _Holy crap, that was awful! If she buys that, she's most definitely hammered._

"Whaaa-? Ooooh. Oooookaaaayy." Sasha trailed off into a giggle. "Seeeecreeet. Shhhhh..."

Helen raised her eyebrows and looked down at her. She felt something more than annoyance at the drunk vamp. It felt more like a compulsion. To... _scold_ her. Her mommy mode was kicking in, which left Helen mentally kicking herself. _Just because she vulnerable now doesn't make her any less evil in general._ Helen took to scolding herself back into the original plan. _Freakin' emotions._

She led Sasha to the back door of the cab and coaxed her inside. Sasha had resorted to (badly) singing to herself when she stopped. "Soooo, who ARE youuuu?"

The muscles in Helen's face twitched reflexively. "The last person you'll ever see, _dollface._ "

Before Sasha could react, Helen clocked her between the eyes with the butt of her gun.

* * *

 _ **There ya have it! Still on the fence about how far I'll push Helen after this point. Review/PM with your thoughts. Any input would be helpful!**_

 _ **Side note: Did anyone else superfangirl over the AKF for Jared at Comic-Con?! Wow! Definitely wish I could've been there in person! :sigh: Alas, maybe next year. :) -H**_


	9. Chapter 9

**_Hidy ho good neighbors! Finally got the next chapter up. Trying something different this go around, purely for the sake of the story. Tell me what y'all think! Beware, Sasha swears like a sailor. Extra foul language, ahoy! (Oh and that graphic violence stuff too.)_**

 ** _As per ush, Helen's mine, all mine, and that's it!_**

* * *

[Sasha]

Oh God, my head. Exploding, it's literally freaking exploding. Right now. Like when I first got turned, but didn't listen to Father's advice on feeding ASAP after he turned me. That was bad. _This_ was worse. I groaned and winced immediately. The groan was like knocking over that first domino, triggering mini explosions, one stick of dynamite at a time. Any movement made my head feel even heavier, but the pain was the worst right between my eyes. Instinctively I reached to touch my forehead and stopped. Stuck. Why's my hand stuck? I tried my other hand. No go there, too. "What the..." I finally dared to open my eyes and look around. I realized I was sitting in a chair, my arms and legs chained to it. There was nothing around me but hay and air. Where the fuck am I? An abandoned barn maybe? "Shit," I said out loud. I was a hostage?

I wracked my brain, but I couldn't remember much from the night before. Was it already the next day? Ugh. Everything's blurring together. My head felt foggy, but not hung-over kinda foggy. Like...drugged kinda foggy. But, I'm a vampire! "You can't drug a vampire! ...can you?" I whispered to myself.

"That's what happens when you rush the sorority without doing your homework, hon." The voice was husky, but definitely feminine. Ok, so I'm not alone.

"Wh-who are you? What do you want with me?" My voice shook too much. She had to notice it. To hell with it. I was freaking the fuck OUT.

The voice laughed. Almost pleasant sounding, if you didn't take into consideration that little detail of my hostage situation. "You _were_ wasted, huh? What's the last thing you even remember, Sasha?" She almost sounded, _disappointed?_ What the hell?

"Hey! I was celebrating! Who the fuck are you to judge?"

Husky voice lady coughed out a laugh. "Right. Well, I'm not chained to a chair, so I've got that going for me," she said in some dopey voice.

"What, is that supposed to be a quote from something?"

"Sweet mother Mary. Seriously?" I shook my head. I guess she could see me because then she said, " _Caddyshack._ It's a classic?" Husky voice lady was pissed that I didn't recognize some old-ass movie quote? I'm screwed.

Suddenly a figure walked by-husky voice lady, I'm guessing. She was medium height, dirty blonde hair past her shoulders, thin but still buff. Even with my kinda blurry vision I could see her biceps flex-and, _damn_. She was wearing faded jeans and a gray T-shirt. For a second, I thought I almost recognized her. Then foggy brain kicked in again. It was like every few minutes it got real bad again, and I'd feel weak, sick to my stomach. Then it would fade, but it never faded all the way. Before I felt almost normal again, I got blindsided with another hit. I tried to turn my head to get a better look around, but something pinched when I moved my neck. There was something stuck to it. I wondered to myself if it had been there this whole time...how come I didn't notice before? Felt like something was taped to it, holding something in place maybe? "What is that?" I finally said out loud.

"Just some vamp roofies, in an IV. Friend of mine gave me the idea. I might've taken some creative liberties."

Confused, I tried to look for husky voice lady again. "Huh? Whaddya mean? I didn't think anything could hurt us except-"

"-lopping your heads off?" She finished my fuzzy thought. I nodded slowly, trying to keep the dynamite dominos from starting all over. She stepped into my view and said, "Like I said, you really should do you homework before you join the club." She smiled faintly at my stunned reaction. It should've clicked when she knew my name. _Her_. The hunter bitch survived.

* * *

[Helen]

Somehow, Sasha was actually _surprised_ to see me alive. Maybe I gave her more credit than I should have. Or, she was just that doped up, between the booze and the IV infusion of dead man's blood I had going in her external jugular vein. I was still mentally patting myself on the back for that one. Bobby showed me the stones and mortar; I just built the wall a bit creatively. I crossed my arms over my chest as I walked over to her. I _wanted_ her to see what she had done. Maybe deep, deep down I was curious if she would show any remorse. Not like it mattered, but then again... _No. It doesn't matter. It can't matter, because Drew, Michael, and Tyler..._ they _matter. Mattered_ , I corrected myself. I steeled myself for her reaction. Doped on dead man's blood or not, she would still be able to hear my heart beat, and I sure as hell wasn't giving her that satisfaction.

"You... _made it?_ H-how?!"

"Said it yourself. 'Once a hunter, always a hunter', right? Guess I still have it."

"No. No, there were four bodies! You, you can't be here! That means-"

"-Tanya's dead. Yep. Damn. I think your drug's hittin' you harder than I thought." I walked behind her to the IV setup and moved the roller clamp down to slow down the infusion. "There. I can't have you completely out. Well, not yet anyway." It seemed to take effect quickly, because she finally realized what I had said about Tanya.

"YOU KILLED HER? HOW COULD YOU?!" She screamed with what little strength she had.

Was she serious? My eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise. "Did you forget that part where you murdered my family in front of my eyes, then tried to kill me?" I slid the roller clamp up and let the blood run in full force for a minute. This was gonna be a long night, and I already needed a break from the vamp skank. "Say goodnight Sasha."

I wanted to be sure she didn't move yet, so I wrapped iron chains around the young vamp until she looked like a crisscrossed iron vampire present, perfect for any hunter's Christmas. Or Hanukah. Then I laid down in the truck's back seat for a power nap. I hadn't slept in so long, and I needed to be sharp. As soon as I had laid my head down on my rolled up jacket, the alarm went off on my phone. Well, it seemed like it until I checked the time. _Crap, that was two hours?_ I grabbed another Red Bull from the cooler and drained it before I hopped out.

There was farm-style bathroom in the barn, so I headed that way first. I splashed some water on my face, then pulled back my now-grungy hair into a ponytail. As I patted my face dry, I dared a look into the mirror. My normally pale skin looked downright deathly, accentuated by the dark purple circles under my eyes.

My eyes. Jo and I got confused for one another pretty frequently when we were teenagers, until anyone saw our faces up close. Then it was easy to tell us apart. The only thing I really got from my dad, besides his love for hunting, were his bright, piercing blue eyes, and they were my favorite feature. Drew used to say he shouldn't bother lying to me, because 'with those things, you can see straight through me, so what's the point in even trying?' Oh, Drew. The blue eyes in the mirror stared back, shimmering with tears now. I gripped the edge of the sink as I feebly tried to stop the breakdown coming down the line.

Drew. Jo. Michael. Tyler. Mom. Dad. The death toll was ridiculous. Unnecessary, every single death. Getting out sure as hell didn't stop it from rising, not like I thought it would. I exhaled through pursed lips as I tried to calm myself. "Not... _now_ , Helen. Later," I ordered my emotions in check. I was 1st and goal with five seconds left in the game. I couldn't afford any distractions. So I slapped my face for effect before I walked onto my playing field.

* * *

[Sasha]

I came to with a throbbing head again. "Aw for fuck's sake, not again," I moaned. The throbbing, oh man why wouldn't it let up? I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping it might help the pain. Nope. I peeked out of one eye to see if anything else had changed. Same crappy place. Wait...oh shit. The pain made me forget all about the reason I was even here to begin with! My eyes flew open, equal parts terror and anger running through my head, but I didn't see the bitch yet. The pain started drumming up even harder, right between the eyes especially. No, it wasn't the pain. It was steady. _Dum-dum. Dum-dum_. A heartbeat. Whatever she was drugging me with didn't completely un-vamp me. That was just a tiny bit encouraging. "I can hear your heart beating, so no use in hiding anymore! Come out and face me, dollface."

"I am, dear." Even though I knew she was there, the appearance of her husky voice right behind me still caught me off-guard. Won't even lie-I totally flinched.

"H-hi again..." I fumbled for a witty response and got nothing. So, I left it like that. Over the deafening silence I heard some clinking noises, then scraping and shuffling of something being moved around me.

"I see your wit is as delightful as ever."

Helen walked in front of me with a smug smile on her smug bitch face, then knelt down in front of me. Her arms were angry looking where the fire got her. Looking her in the eyes I could tell something was different, so I told her so. She was still smiling but looked dead in her eyes. "Oh right, I remember that look. Watching your family die does that to you, huh?"

She didn't react like I'd hoped. Her smile turned into a faint snarl, but... _creepier_. "Yes, it does." She went back to moving whatever it was-looked like a table-so that it was close by. Something wasn't adding up, but every time the light bulb flipped on, it got turned right back off by whatever it was in the whatchacallit, IV? I shifted in the chair trying to hide my panic.

"So, why am I here? What are you gonna...do?"

She turned around, still with the creepy smile. "Well, I already ganked one of the vamps responsible...so, now it's your turn. But, since you were the devious little mastermind, you get the honor of a slow death." She said it so casually that at first, the word 'death' didn't quite register in my brain.

"D-d-eath? You're, you're g-gonna kill me?"

She nodded slowly. "Of course, dear. I'm the hunter, you're the monster. That's generally how this story goes."

No no no no no no no nooooooo. This. Cannot. Be. Happening. "But...why?"

"You know why, Sasha. My family did nothing to deserve that." As she walked closer, tears sprang to my eyes. "But you? You did _everything_ to deserve what's gonna happen next."

Can't breathe. Oh God. "So you're gonna kill me too?"

She turned back to the table and began arranging whatever was over there. She picked up something shiny and flipped it around in her hand. With a chuckle, she finally answered me. "Eventually."

That light bulb clicked on and stayed on this time. The table was full of all kinds of sharp, pointy things, and she clearly meant to use them on me. "Why wait? Just...get it over with already!" I sounded braver than I felt at the moment.

Shaking her head, she replied, "Your generation is so impatient. What's the rush? I've got nothing but time and questions now. And I'd like to think that if you enjoy your work, you never really work a day in your life."

" _Enjoy_ your work? You kill things for a living. How the fuck is that enjoyable?"

"You'd be surprised. Then again, maybe it's because I'm kinda twisted."

"Kind of?!" I squeaked out.

She stepped back over and started taking the chains off of me. "You're right. I'm _really_ twisted. You'll see, soon enough."

* * *

[Helen]

"AHHHHHHHHHH STOOOOOOPPP!"

I pulled the knife away from Sasha's arm and placed it back on the table. Luckily it was stainless steel, so the blood would come off easily enough. She was panting now, completely breathless from her screams. "Enough, please!"

"Oh that's rich. Murdering vampire skank wants mercy? I'll have to save that one for later."

"I'm a person!"

"You're a monster. Now I'm gonna ask again-who turned you? Where is he now?" Sasha clamped her mouth shut and glared at me. "Alrighty then, still deaf or dumb, eh? I can fix that." I dipped the smaller curved knife in the container and turned to her leg. I barely broke the skin before carrying the incision up to her knee. That elicited a whole other round of screams and pleas.

Chest heaving she sputtered out a "FUCK. YOU." before collapsing back into the chair. We had been at this for a few hours already, and still no cigar. She wasn't narcing on her creator, not yet anyway. I really didn't want to graduate to dismemberment, but I couldn't just let this Cullen wannabe walk away scot free.

"I'm not stopping 'til I get answers. You get that, right? Spill the beans now, dear. Save yourself some pain!" I was full on pleading at the end. Why? Why the hell was I trying to save the vampire responsible for killing my family some pain? Jeez. Maybe I'm more twisted than I thought...

She looked confused as she looked up at me, still barely panting for air. "I don't think you're gonna stop, even after you get your precious answers. I think you _like_ torturing me, for the sake of torturing me."

I tried to keep from reacting, but...was she right?

No. I need information. She's not budging. I'm applying pressure for said information.

"You're wrong. Just because I want to cut your throat out doesn't mean I enjoy...this." I gestured towards the table calmly.

Sasha laughed. "You're not on trial. No use convincing me."

I shrugged it off. "So sue me for being reassuring. Now are ya talkin' or ain't ya?" She barely shook her head. "Okay then." I dipped the blade in the dead man's blood again and pressed it into her ankle, making a deep cut just into the muscle. Sasha's shrill cry echoed throughout the barn, while her accusation continued echoing through my brain.

* * *

[Helen]

I'd been going all night, and the bitch _still_ hadn't squawked. I had walked out to the truck to grab another energy drink when my phone rang. "'lo?"

"Helen. Hey, it's Bobby. Just checkin' in." Relief sank in at the familiar voice.

"Bobby, hey. Good to hear from you. I'm good. You?"

"Thinkin' of joining a chorus line, what d'ya think?" I rolled my eyes and sighed. "Find that vamp you were lookin' for?"

"Yep."

"Care to elaborate?"

"Not really."

"Helen..." Bobby started in on me with that super-paternal tone.

"Bobby, come on..."

"No, you come on! You're just back in the game after riding the pine for what, ten, eleven years? So sue me for makin' sure you ain't done something dumb on your first hunt back in!"

God that tone brought back memories. "Fine. I found her. Happy?"

"It's a start."

"Stubborn old coot," I grumbled.

"Trigger-happy rookie!" He shot back.

"Ok ok ok...I got her. Took her out middle of nowhere. Got her doped on an IV infusion of dead man's blood."

"You haven't Henry the VIII'ed her yet? What are ya waiting for?"

"Someone turned her, Bobby. I saw him, but couldn't track him and her separately. He's been helping her with these last kills. I can't just let him off the hook."

The old hunter cursed under his breath. "Right. So you're pumping her for intel and then she's dead?"

"Nada so far, but I think I can get it."

"Gotcha. And that's all you're pumping her for, right?"

"I might throw in, 'You killed my family-prepare to die!' for shits and giggles..."

"Smart ass. Good. And, nice touch with the dead man's blood."

I smiled at the compliment. "Thanks."

"Right. 'k so get the info and get back to me." I started to protest but he cut me off too quickly. "No buts. By the time you're done with this you'll be in no shape to chase down an even stronger vamp."

"I've got this Bobby. I'm-I'm good. For now. I'll call when I'm done." Something must've changed in my voice to convince him, because Bobby simply said, "Ok. Be careful," and hung up. I went to put my phone back in my pocket but dropped it. That's when I noticed how violently I was shaking. The shaking, lack of sleep, and not one, but two people insinuating that I was taking pleasure in torture? I started panicking. Then hyperventilating. Then panicking over the hyperventilating. I covered my eyes, willing the situation to spontaneously resolve without me, and rocked back on my heels. Hesitantly, I moved my hands, as if I actually thought anything would've changed. Of course it didn't.

* * *

[Sasha]

I didn't even struggle the last time Helen had carved into me. I knew I was done. I just... Well, I didn't think I'd go out like this. Helen's footsteps drew me out of my pity party. Something was wrong. Her eyes were red, and she was shaking all over. Barely, but noticeably so. Her heart beat was erratic. I sniffed deeply. "You know, those things will kill you."

That snapped her out of whatever daze she was in. "Huh?"

"Energy drinks. Don't bother yours truly much, but humans? Almost as bad as drugs." She waved off the comment. "I'd hate to see you keel over before you finish the job, is all."

"Sarcasm? You must be feeling better, Sasha. Or..." She studied my face for a long pause before smiling again. "You've given up."

I shrugged as casually as I could manage. "So? What's it to you?"

She picked up a larger, more rugged looking knife. "It means that you might be willing to chat. Is that the case?"

I shook my head slightly and frowned. "Nope. Just ready to bite the dust, no pun intended."

Apparently that wasn't the answer she was looking for. She grabbed my hand and sawed off one of my fingers. Spots started coming into view. Before I blacked out, I swore the bitch was smirking at me.

I woke up to a tsunami wave of pain. "OWWWW!" I screamed and cried myself hoarse this time. What was the point in keeping a brave face? Helen the hunter bitch had already won. Still...I didn't want to give up Father. I underestimated Helen once, and I didn't want him to make that mistake too. I whipped my head around and found her at her trusty table of terror. "Hey." No response. "Hey!" Still nothing. Maybe my voice was really gone. "Heeelllleennnnn..."

She turned around and walked towards me. "Yes dear?"

I was still figuring out the details, but I jumped at my window. "Yeah. I'll, I'll talk. Tell you what you want to know."

Surprise barely crossed her face. "Mkay, whatcha got?" She folded her arms over her chest.

I started rambling about our nest. Threw out some numbers and roads, hoping it would be a real address. When I finished, I was sure that it would buy Father enough time to ditch this town before she could get him. She nodded in consideration and pursed her lips. Ahh, she bought it! I closed my eyes in relief. Then I heard the sickening chop of another one of my fingers being hacked off.

"See, I'd believe you. Except, I tracked his credit card charges, and none of them have been close to whatever address you just pulled out of your ass."

I hung my head. Shit. Fuck. Damn it! "So what do you need me for? Not like you need practice chopping veggies for dinner!"

Her eyes widened. At first her pulse sped up, but now it was steady. She regained her composure before she started again, deadly calm this time. "Where is he?"

"I told yo-" _Chop_. Another finger hit the barn floor. "YEOWWWW!"

"Where IS he?"

"I-I don't kn-AAAAGGGHHHHH!" She calmly cut off another finger. "PLEASE DON'T! JUST KILL ME!"

"Can't do that. I need information."

"Bullshit. You ARE enjoying this, you sick bitch."

"Where...is...he? I have plenty more things I can remove from your body, Sasha."

I gasped quietly. No. I had to protect him. "I really don't know right now. He's probably gone by now!" _Chop_. My hand dropped off the chair with a thud. "Trying out for _Iron Chef_ or something? Why else would you need me for practice! You're only cookin' for one anyway..."

"Shut up, you self-righteous little bitch. You murdered...my _family_. My flesh and blood family. You got no right..."

"Family's not only blood, skank. You killed mine first!" I was seeing those spots again.

"I ganked some bloodsucking killers. Can you say the same?" She stared me down before adding, "Now I can go all night. You...can't. Answer. The. Question."

Tears welled in my eyes again. "I did what I thought was right. For my family. For their memory. And I won't answer the question. Not now. Not ever."

Helen walked up close and started removing the stuff in my neck. Wait. Was she, gonna let me go? She put away more of her terror supplies. I started to hope. I finally worked up the courage to ask her, "So are you, ya know, gonna let me go?"

She stopped what she was doing and spun around. Her expression was unreadable. "Yes."

"W-what?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing!

"Yes, you get to go." She grabbed something off of the table. A cruel smile returned. "I never said you were leaving _alive_."

I sputtered something unintelligible, struggling against the chains. The machete glinted brightly in the light. Helen was right over me now. "Close your eyes, Sasha."

My last bit of rebellion kicked in. "No! Go to hell."

"You first." Helen swung at my neck.

* * *

[Helen]

"That... that was for my boys." I sputtered venomously at Sasha's body. It was done. She was dead. Overwhelmed, I fell to my knees and sobbed.

When I finally picked myself up, I remembered my earlier promise. Bobby picked up on the second ring. "Helen? You alright?"

"Yeah. No. I just-it's done. Bobby, it's done. I'll keep in touch." I hung up before he could get in another word and went about cleaning up the evidence. The fire from the barn dwarfed the tiny flames rising up out of Sasha's grave in the distance. After I was sure I covered my tracks, I drove off into the sunset. I should've been thrilled.

I wasn't.

* * *

 _ **Sorry for the wait! Life got hectic PDQ.**_

 _ **This was especially difficult to write, because I'd like to think Helen is a good person. I wasn't sure-still not sure-how far to push her. I did the alternating POVs for the "unbiased" view of Helen during the torture. Hopefully it landed like I meant it to! What did y'all think of Bobby here? I can't help it...I just love Bobby Singer. And Jim Beaver. There is no other Bobby Singer! Except...well, the real one. I'm getting off track here ha ha. Anyway, the heavy stuff won't be forever, promise! Next chapter we'll see a much lighter Helen, along with another fan favorite cameo, so don't fret. :D**_

 _ **Special shout-out to Mishel-10: your reviews triggered some much needed fine tuning, and some thoughts for down the line! Yes, we will see Dean again (because you know how I feel about Deano-mite!), but I haven't decided on the when just yet. Stay tuned... Side note, I squealed and fangirled way more than I should admit to when I saw all the reviews lol. But seriously, thank you so much for taking time out for lil ol' me!**_

 _ **Thanks for all the follows/faves, and don't forget to let me know what y'all think! Feedback is like finding pots of gold and rainbows in me Lucky Charms! Thanks y'all -H**_


	10. Chapter 10

_**Oooooorder up! With a side of the usual, 'I don't own the Supernatural puzzle, I just have too much fun adding new pieces.' :D**_

* * *

 **[Helen]**

I was still on edge from the adrenaline rush of hiding the evidence and didn't want to accidentally get myself arrested. Dead woman getting arrested for killing one of the undead? Awkward... Like Bobby said, it was my first hunt back in. I couldn't afford to be sloppy. So I reigned in the lead foot temporarily. The truck cooperated, too, thank God, and I made it two towns over before my head started bobbing. (In the grudge match of exhaustion versus adrenaline-rush, exhaustion always wins.)

I pulled into the first crappy motel I could find. The clerk at the desk barely gave me second glance when I paid for two weeks in advance-he just handed me the key and pointed me in the general direction of the room. Sweet. I thanked him and headed that way.

I chunked my stuff on the extra bed and headed for the bathroom. The only thing I had been looking forward to was getting clean. Strange how that's one of the first things you take for granted when you have it all. As much as I wanted to crank up the hot water, my burns were still healing, so that was a no go. I opted to focus on de-grunging my hair.

Heaven. It was freakin' heavenly. But heaven got cut short when I realized how sore I was. My body seemed to begin spasming as soon as the realization hit me. I couldn't manage anything more than rinsing off because my muscles were spasming too forcefully for any coordinated movement to be possible.

Damn it.

I clumsily stumbled out of the shower and managed to grab a towel before I collided with the floor. Scooting into a sitting position, I dried my hair. Ish. Ok, I squeezed some water out of my hair. Let's not celebrate just yet, self. I gritted my teeth while I waited for the spasms to die down. Once they abated (slightly), I attempted standing. Must've stuck the landing 'cause I stayed vertical. Whew. Take that, Dawes.

Next step was shuffling to the bed. Five minutes later, I went back to being horizontal, this time on the bed. The spasms dwindled down to shakes. Maybe Sasha had a point. I had never really gotten into energy drinks before now, but I was pretty sure full body muscle spasms weren't one of the side effects. I held out my hand and stared down at it, transfixed by the trembling.

 _Why wouldn't it stop?!_

I closed my eyes, trying to relax my mind. I thought a deep cleansing breath might do the trick. No sooner than I inhaled deeply did the awful flashbacks begin. My hands, grasping a knife. The knife sawing off each of her fingers without hesitation. Sasha's blood-curdling screams. The memories wouldn't stop. They kept rolling now, as if I had started a highlight reel of horrors with no pause button, and no end in sight. A sob erupted from deep within my chest.

 _What had I done?_

No. NO. The girl was pure evil. She was a murderer. She was a monster. I reasoned pretty well with myself, until another voice chimed in—a deep-rooted, primal instinct that thrived on protecting the weak.

 _She was just a girl, younger even than your baby sister_. My maternal instincts didn't hold back a single punch. Monster or not, she was **somebody's** baby. I argued back that she had butchered my husband and children in cold blood! And I had returned her violence with violence. I sliced and diced her into a vamp kabob before I actually showed her some mercy.

The reel continued on, lending more damning evidence to the maternal instincts' argument. At one point I recalled glancing at my reflection in one of the knives. I was smiling. Faintly, but it was a smile nonetheless.

Oh. God. _Smiling...as I tortured..._ What the fuck was _wrong_ with me?

Whatever dam was holding back that emotional flood finally gave way, releasing a torrent of sobs that I was powerless to stop. Each time I tried to rise above it, another nightmarish memory threw me back into the rip tide. I was too tired, too broken to stop it anyway. So I let it win. Curling into the fetal position on the bed, I gave up. Because really, what right did I have? Those were my hands dismembering her body. My lips, curling into a wicked grin with each of her screams. My twisted plan of 'justice' for my family was just as bad as hers was. I was no better than a murderous vampire. The accusation rang too true for my fragile psyche to handle. When the nightmare reel started up again, my body shook forcefully as the reality of my actions effectively drowned what sanity I had left. I cried myself into what I could only assume was oblivion.

I was vaguely aware of a low groan coming from across the room. I tried to pick my head up from the bed. Nothing happened. Neck must be too taxed from the spasms. I settled for tilting my head in the direction of the sound. "What the…" It was Sasha. I had barely whispered the words, but she definitely heard me. She turned to face me. I gasped at her appearance. It was right before I had killed her, so she was missing a hand and was covered in blood, gaping wounds exposed on her legs and arms. She sneered at my shocked reaction. "What, didn't think I could survive, dollface?"

"No. Can't be." I shivered involuntarily.

"Sure it can! Apocalypse is on, so anything can happen, right?" Suddenly her image faded out. "Or maybe…I'm just seared into your mind now. Together…forever!" She sang the last bit.

I silently sobbed. I was too exhausted to move, not that fear was gonna let me budge anyway. Not only was I reliving every hellish detail of my downward spiral, but now I also had a reincarnated memory of Sasha running free in my fractured noggin. The sobbing crescendoed, but they didn't drown out Sasha's taunts. After passing a seeming eternity frozen in place, I rolled to my side again. My eyes were very swollen, so it had to be sheer dumb luck that I spotted my bag on the other bed. I had medicine in it. The very thought of the potential relief propelled me off the bed and into rifling through my bag's contents 'til I found it.

A full bottle of cheap bourbon. Hot damn. What'd Bobby always say about booze? "Just 'cause it can kill ya don't mean it ain't medicine." Nietzsche had nothin' on Robert Singer.

I briefly scanned the room. Didn't see her. Didn't hear her, either.

I decided it didn't matter. I couldn't do it anyway. I just...couldn't. I wasn't strong enough to deal with any of this, so I planned an escape to the bottom of the bottle, and prayed it would at least knock me out for a day. Just one pain-free day, that's all I want. Is that too much to ask? Damn it, I think I've damn well earned it! I toasted my impending drunkenness and threw back the bottle. Drunk-cation, here I come.

* * *

Day one of drunk-cation: "Hmmmsppffmmgrrnspp." High-pitched giggles interrupted the incoherent mumbles sporadically. There might have been dancing. Helen felt nothing. Well, except for the weight of the empty bottle in her hand. That was enough to trigger the giggles again as she dropped the bottle and watched it roll away. Eventually, she passed out. Then the hangover hit.

Day two of drunk-cation: "Quiet. Everything…be vewy, vewy quiet. No sudden movements." Her head throbbed even with whispering aloud to herself. She really didn't think this one through.

Day three of drunk-cation: Helen found another bottle of bourbon. She pondered whether to open it for a few obligatory moments, before deciding responsibility could kiss her perky ass. It burned going down her already raw throat, but ahhh…it burned so damn good. She sipped more slowly this time.

Day four of drunk-cation: No hangover…yet. Helen had finished off the last of the bottle a few hours ago, so she still was pretty wasted. She finally noticed that the radio had been on this whole time.

 _Highway run, into the midnight sun… Wheels go 'round 'n' 'round, in my mind…_

Ah, Journey. She hummed along until the chorus, and the bourbon made her bold enough to sing along. "I'm still yoooourrrsss…faithfully," she slurred. Jo loved '80's rock, especially REO Speedwagon and Journey. "Jo-Jo…" Helen called out to the empty room. "I-I miss you baby sis." Even though the song was a classic romantic song, Helen had felt similarly about her sister. They could be thousands of miles apart, but they were still sisters—that love, that bond couldn't be broken, even in death. She was full-on ugly crying by the song's end.

Helen's eyes slowly slid open. The world was sideways. _…the hell?_ Oh, right. Drunk-cation. Clumsily, the woman managed to sit upright. She checked her phone for the date. Let's see: she had checked in on a Monday. It was…Tuesday. But, wait. Huh? A dull ache drummed in the base of her skull, just loudly enough to block any coherent thoughts. She blinked forcefully several times before her vision cleared. Finally she could make out the dates. Oh, ok. She'd been there for eight days. Correction. She'd been there, completely incapacitated, for eight straight days.

* * *

 **[Helen]**

I spent the next day in the bathroom, alternating between pathetic attempts to clean myself up and hugging the throne. Drunk-cation was **always** a bad idea.

Then again, it was exactly what I had wanted, wasn't it? I felt nothing but euphoria for a few days. No bad memories (remembering Jo didn't count as bad in my eyes). No blood. No feelings, period, end of story. I couldn't say that all the guilt and pain was completely gone. (Ha! I had a guilt complex the size of Texas, so of course not.) But…none of it seemed as heavy as before.

I could breathe...pretty easily, in fact.

I sensed the weight of my necklace and rings against my skin without immediately crying a river. I even dared to look at pictures of Drew and the boys. Rather than overwhelming, crippling grief, I remembered the moments with a sad fondness. Bravery took its hold and lifted my head up to look in the mirror. "Hi there, Helen. Long time," I told my reflection. I was still me. Blue eyes, blonde hair, good enough rack to make men weep? All still accounted for. I saw a small smile creep onto my face in the mirror. Maybe I was actually ready to rejoin humanity. Oh crap. I needed to go shopping then.

* * *

Helen checked her appearance once more out of sheer anxiety. She hadn't been out by herself in ages. Sure, she had been on (rare) date nights with Drew or drinks with friends, but not on her own. Not since, sophomore year of undergrad? Helen chuckled as she recalled her bolder, younger self charging out to celebrate finals by herself. All her friends wanted to go to a new club to dance, but Helen went where she felt most at home: an old fashioned dive bar on Bourbon Street. Blushing at the rest of the memory, Helen got back to the task at hand. Touching up her lipstick, she did a final assessment of herself. She didn't look half-dead. The clothes fit, for the most part. Burns were close to healed, so they were barely noticeable. Baring her teeth, she checked the mirror one last time. No lipstick anywhere except for her lips. "Alright, that's all you can ask for," she told herself before she left the motel room for the first time in a couple of weeks.

Helen pulled into the parking lot and parked the truck. She had passed several bars on the freeway, but the second one just had that _vibe_ Helen was looking for. Straightening her jacket, she walked into the bar. "Here goes nothing," Helen whispered to herself. The main floor had tables scattered throughout with a small open area for dancing, and the physical bar was positioned against the side wall. It looked to be relatively busy, but not swamped. _Perfect. Enough people to blend in, but not too many that I can't get a drink_. Helen sauntered up to an empty stool and sat down. The male bartender sighed with obligation as he walked over. "What can I getcha?" he asked without emotion. "Glass of wine? Smirnoff Ice?"

Helen smiled at the dick behind the bar. "No, not on the rag today, so I think I'll just take Jack on the rocks."

The shock stopped dick bartender and made him actually look up at this feisty patron. His demeanor instantly melted into a boy-next-door grin. "Sorry, Miss. Comin' right up," he drawled. The Oklahoma was thick in his accent. _Mmm._

"Thanks." Helen didn't miss his attempt at flattery with the 'miss' comment. "So, anything good here besides the drinks?"

Less-of-a-dick bartender dropped her drink on the bar and slid it in front of her. "The nachos, definitely. Normally I'd say the burger, because it's not as messy, but... Well, you don't seem like a little bit spilled cheese would bother you much," he said with a laugh.

"Perceptive, aren't ya? I'll have some nachos then, please." She pursed her lips, satisfied with the short burst of flirtation. Apparently the deep V-necked tee and new bra were living up to their hype. "Name's Helen," she said slickly, eyes twinkling mischievously.

Even less of a dick bartender chuckled, making his dimples all that more visible. "Greg, your friendly neighborhood bartender." He reached out to shake her hand. His eyebrows knitted together. "Oooh, firm handshake. Nice," he remarked.

She rolled her eyes and shrugged. "What can I say? I was raised right."

Greg nodded appreciatively, then smirked before he walked to the kitchen with her order.

Helen basked in her minor flirting victory. _Baby steps, right?_ She surveyed the patrons out of sheer hunter habit. Nothing was outright suspicious, but there were a couple of guys that had overheard her exchange with Greg. One looked curious. The other looked thrilled, like he had just found a shiny new toy on the playground. Helen casually continued her glance around the room to avoid other guy's stare. She sipped her drink nonchalantly. No big deal. Not like her hair was standing up on the back of her neck or anything. No chills down her spine.

The stool next to her scraped against the floor abruptly, quickly killing whatever calm Helen had worked to achieve. "Hey 'ere sweetheart," the man slurred next to her. "I'm Pete."

 _Shit. And I was having a good time._ Plastering on a smile, she sweetly retorted, "That's nice. I'm actually sour and heartless." She tried shifting her gaze back to the room for effect.

"He he he, you're funny AND purdy. Hard to come by 'round 'ere," Pete tried again. He swayed slightly as he tried to scoot his stool closer to hers.

"Sucks for you, sorry Petey." _Not in the mood, dude...take the hint train to no-sville already._ Movement at the end of the bar caught her eye, but at the moment, all she could think about was shaking Petey off her scent here and now. "Just here for a drink, 'kay?"

Pete snorted out a hearty laugh. "Aw come on, honey! Don't be like that!"

Helen tried to mask her anger at the man's inability to take a single fucking hint. "Like, what? A coy, cold-hearted bitch? I'd apologize, but it's my default setting, Jeff." Helen spat the words out venomously, fixing him with a piercing glare.

"P-p-pete! My name's Pete!" He blurted out incredulously.

"Ahh, right. Pete. I'm still sour." Helen shrugged to herself and sipped her drink again. Suddenly a hand wrapped around her wrist and shoved it down onto the bar forcefully. Helen winced with the pain but gritted her teeth. She wouldn't give Joe Blow here the satisfaction.

"You're 'n awful mouthy bitch, you know that?" Pete growled just inches away from her face. "I can think of a couple better uses for it."

Helen's blood ran cold, but not just with fear. She was pissed. "I can too, Petey. Only not for any backwoods sexist pigs like you, comprende?"

His face screwed up with pure rage. "Why you litt-" Before Pete could finish that lovely compliment, Helen twisted her wrist outward to free herself and threw a punch right underneath his jaw. The force knocked the man off of the stool, right into the arms of...the curious guy staring at her from earlier. Pete bellowed angrily at Helen, but curious guy kept his grip and raised the man back to his feet. _No, he just freakin' lifted that guy off of the_ ground! _What? No, couldn't be._ Helen shook her head. She was sure she was just seeing things-that drink hit her on an empty stomach, her rationale offered.

Curious guy spoke up, pulling Helen out of her mental freak-out. He let out a low whistle before he clapped the man on the shoulder. "Whoa there, big fella! Few too many Fuzzy Navels I take it?" He asked with a laugh. "Nice one," he mumbled to Helen.

Helen nodded in response, since all Petey could manage was unintelligible grumbling. Massaging her wrist, she chuckled without humor. "Thanks. Apparently Deliverance here is a lightweight." That bought her a whole new round of swearing and yelling from the injured man.

Curious guy shushed him, clearly annoyed. He glanced at Helen before he leaned in to whisper in Pete's ear. "The lady clearly wanted a drink, ALONE, pal. Walk outta here, NOW, while you still have legs. I've been kinda bored lately, and you don't want me to get creative." His tone was calm but menacing enough to make Pete do a double take between the man and Helen. Sensing Pete's hesitation, the guy spoke up again, exasperated now. "Dude, seriously? She's not gonna sleep with you. You've got _this_ much chance of it happening," he said, making a zero sign with his hand. He looked to Helen to confirm the statement. _Drunk, dumb, or both?_

Helen frowned and nodded. "Wasn't happening, Pete. Apparently hints ain't in your wheelhouse."

Pete's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Helen would've almost felt bad, if the dickbag hadn't tried to manhandle her. Curious guy let go of Pete and guided him in the direction of the door. He then ceremoniously held up his arms and waved him at the gathering crowd. "Nothing to see here, people! Douchebag just got wailed on by a gal half his size. Happens ALL the time!"

He finished the soapbox routine, managing to kill the attention rather efficiently, and spun around to face Helen with a big smile on his face. "That was b-e-a-u-tiful! Please, let me buy you a drink," he gushed enthusiastically.

She smirked at him and gestured toward the now-empty stool. His enthusiasm was contagious, and she didn't mind catching some of it. "Step on up, if you dare..." she warned lightly. "I'm-"

"-Helen...right? Thought I heard you introduce yourself earlier to Greggy-poo. You know, before _Pete_ stepped on over..." He threw his thumb in the direction of the door for emphasis.

She raised her eyebrows at him and hesitated. "Right. Good ears. And you are...?"

He pondered the question for a moment, clearly amused at some unknown joke. "Call me Gabe," he finally answered with an extended hand. She grasped his hand, shook it, but when she went to let go, Gabe held on. She cocked a eyebrow at him, slightly confused. He simply smiled in response as he brought her hand to his lips, lightly pressing them to her knuckles. He released her hand gently and waggled his eyebrows at her. "The pleasure is all mine," he said seductively. Cheesy, yes, but Helen could appreciate the gesture. She smiled widely as she placed her hand back into her lap, her knuckles still tingling slightly from the kiss. Helen picked up her glass and threw back the last of the drink, never noticing that the area where Gabe had planted the kiss glowed a faint blue for a couple of seconds. "To poetic justice!" He raised his glass, and they toasted over the evening's festivities.

* * *

 ** _Squeeee, I've been waiting so long to do that! (Gabriel is one of my favorite characters, period.) Also, I didn't tell the whole truth. I'm not just doing a Gabriel cameo...he's got way more story coming down the line!_**

 ** _I wasn't sure how to introduce them to each other, but a bar altercation between a former bar wench and Mr. Decadent himself felt right, lol. All input/thoughts/criticisms/squeals are welcome! Please PM/review with what y'all think :) And as always, thanks for reading! -H_**

 ** _Mishel-10_** ** _: Ah you are so kind! (Thank you for keeping up with lil ol' me, btw.) Lol it's funny you say that. When I first got the idea for Helen, I wanted her to be bigger and badder than Jo, so to speak. So the similarities with Dean are both intentional and unintentional. I definitely took your advice to heart. The original intent for last chapter was exactly that-I wanted the (faux) appearance of cold, calculating torture master just to highlight her breakdown here. (Granted, next go around-and I'm sure she will at some point lol-she'll have this experience looming over her. So you're absolutely correct there. I'll inner-monologue her since she'll be freaking out.) And Caddyshack was a salute to S10 and because I quote it frequently. :) Thanks so much!_**


	11. Chapter 11

**What's up, bitches? (Sorry, I miss Charlie lol.) Nothing but the usual, 'I own nothing Supernatural, I just like rearranging the puzzle pieces for kicks and giggles.'**

* * *

[Gabriel]

So, I'm an angel, which means I had to believe in fate, right? HA! What humans call "fate" is actually just Dad's plan. Sure, Dad only moved a couple chess pieces around, set up for the big win, but that was so orchestrated. Like Heaven's version of the Waltons, with more self-righteousness. True fate/kismet/karma, etc., without all the ulterior motives? Never actually saw that in action, so naturally, I didn't believe it was real. So tonight, I walked into a bar. (I know, bad setup for a worse joke, right?) What happened tonight? Now _that_ was kismet at its finest.

I just so happened to be in this sleepy little Oklahoma town already. (A guy with friends in blue places slid out of one too many domestic violence calls. Lightweight, I know… But I was bored.) Scum bag was a regular at a local dive bar, so I parked my ass on a stool and waited for him. Aaaaaand, I waited. He finally made his way in an hour later, but I prefer my scum bags well lit first. The bar was slow, so I started with darts. Then I beat myself at pool. Twice. After a few melodramatic sighs, I went back to drinking myself stupid. I was two drinks in when I sensed something. Looking up from my drink, I saw a few heads swivel in the direction of the door. "Wonder what the coming attraction is," I muttered crassly. Then I saw the attention getter.

Hot _damn_.

A pretty woman was walking into the bar, calm with a side of confident. Wait, scratch that. Not pretty. She was _gorgeous_. Sandy blonde curls fell past her shoulders. She was wearing a dark leather jacket over a deep red V-necked shirt, dark jeans that hugged all the right places, and black knee-high boots. She brushed her hair back, and her bright blue eyes seemingly lit up, a striking contrast against her pale skin. I let out a low whistle before realizing that I was staring.

Damn it. I was _supposed_ to be blending in, not drawing attention to myself. Especially not before the main event. Oops? _It's always a girl, isn't it Gabriel?_ I could just hear the snarky remarks from my siblings all over again. Whatever.

I turned back around to my drink quickly before anyone could notice, but she had piqued my curiosity. My Spidey-Senses pinged about the time she walked in, and I didn't have enough time to get a read on what exactly about her had tripped my angel-dar.

Angelic crap ends up cramping my style every freakin' time.

About that time, she flipped her hair over her shoulder and smiled for Greg the bartender, who was being completely oblivious to the gorgeous creature in front of him. Idiot. Greg mockingly offered her two different chick drinks without looking up. I suddenly saw a familiar twinkle of mischief in her blue eyes. Without missing a beat, she quipped something about how since it wasn't her lady time of the month, she'd rather have whiskey.

I chuckled to myself. I liked Blondie's style.

That caught Greggy-poo's attention-finally. His expression when he looked up at her went from shock to appreciation to awe in less than a second. That triggered a slight blush and humble smile from Blondie, and then introductions were made. I caught a name: Helen. Classy. It suited her.

While she sipped her drink, I noticed that she was very interested in everyone else. Not exactly something you see hot women do every day. The way she looked around was meant to be casual, yet intentional. Then Helen locked eyes with me briefly before she quickly averted her gaze.

Oh _shit_.

It hit me, and I felt incredibly inept at Trickstering to have missed it in the first place. Helen was scoping the place out, like a cop, or worse. A hunter.

Ok, consider me puzzled. A chick like _that_ could not be a _hunter_. …right? Apocalypse hits the big stage, and I guess anything goes? Maybe Helen wasn't after me. I've been a choir boy, er, well…for today, at least. Coincidence? Didn't believe in it. I probably _was_ her target if she _was_ , in fact, a hunter.

Now I was pissed. I didn't want to admit it, but I already had a soft spot for this gal. She was a knock-out, but approachable. Funny, too. Well, to hell with it. If it came to that, I could just Houdini myself to Paris. Or Hong Kong. About the time I had firmly decided against killing Helen the Hottie (and possible) Hunter, my scum bag had slid off of his stool and made a beeline for her. I've got a bad feeling about this.

While I was getting my John Nash mind bend on, Helen had apparently noticed Pete making goo-goo eyes at her. I assumed this because as soon as Pete slid off the bar stool, she immediately tensed up. I started to move too, but I stopped. If she's a hunter, she can handle herself. Let us see how Helen does… Not that I cared or anything. Just wanted to exact some karma. For some reason my fingertips anxiously drummed out an erratic beat while I waited.

"Hey 'ere sweetheart! I'm Pete," he began. "That's nice. I'm actually sour and heartless," Helen replied curtly, turning back to her drink immediately.

I bit down hard to keep from laughing. I don't care who you are, that chick was hilarious.

Pete's ire began climbing swiftly as the awkward repartee continued. This guy was either drunk, stupid, or both. I decided he majored in stupidity with a heavy emphasis on drunkenness, annoying but effectively harmless, until he grabbed her wrist. My body went rigid with anger, and I jumped off of the stool, instinct driving the bus now. At that same time, Helen wrenched herself out of his grip and threw a fist under his jaw. Apparently that gal can pack a wallop because Petey was knocked clean off of the stool, and into my waiting arms. I smiled. Ok, maybe kismet was a real thing.

"Whoa there, big fella! Few too many Fuzzy Navels, I take it?" I zinged as I hefted the man off the floor. I got my first close up of Helen and laid on the charm with a big dopey grin. "Nice one," I applauded her. She chuckled humorlessly. "Thanks. Apparently Deliverance here is a lightweight," she remarked gruffly, clearly pissed off and in pain. Whether or not she knew it, she had a few hairline fractures in her hand, and that had to hurt like a mother. I'd have to fix it later if I could. The man in my arms was grumbling again, so I smoothly threatened him and shoved his ass towards the door.

My scum bag was taken care of, but I really couldn't have done it better myself. Douche hits on girl. Girl turns him down. Douche gets violent. Girl kicks his ass. Poetry in action.

Well, I had an opening, so I was definitely gonna take it. "That was b-e-a-u-tiful! Please, let me buy you a drink," I offered, probably too enthusiastically. I didn't care though. There was that smile again. "Step on up, if you dare," she lightly warned and beckoned me to the now-empty stool next to her. "I'm-"

"-Helen, right?" I cut in, explaining that I had already overheard it. She looked concerned for a moment, but that passed and she complimented my hearing. Ha! If she only knew… Then she asked my name. I couldn't stop the smile that sprang to my lips-it gave me time to ponder my move. As I held out my hand to her and looked in her eyes, I felt completely at ease. Something in her eyes made me want to trust her, so I simply said, "Call me Gabe." She reached out with her injured hand, so I took my opportunity to heal up those fractures, Casanova-style, and kissed her hand square in the middle of all the fractures. Clearly the cheesy gesture wasn't lost on her. She simply rolled her eyes and smiled widely. Luckily for lil ol' me, she put that hand back into her lap and went back to her drink, never noticing the not-so-subtle alien glow. We toasted to poetic justice, my favorite.

* * *

[SPNSPNSPN]

Gabriel couldn't hold back the cheesiness. "Sure you've heard this before, but what's a girl like you doing in-"

"-a place like this? Nah, never heard that one before." She snorted at the lame comment. Gabriel laughed. "Ok, that's a lie. I've got a penchant for dive bars." She shrugged in mock apology.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "What?! Um, not sure if you've seen yourself, but you," he waved up and down at her, "do NOT belong in THIS," he completed as he gestured around the bar.

Helen felt her cheeks flush deeply at the compliment. "Uh, thanks? I think?"

"Definitely a compliment. But seriously, you like this?" he posited.

She grinned slightly. "Yeah, actually. Reminds me of home." At Gabriel's confused expression, she elaborated, "My family owned a bar growing up. We were there all the time, so I guess it felt like a second home after a while."

He nodded in understanding. "Spent your childhood in a bar and not in therapy?" he questioned. Helen shook her head no. "Ok, I'm hooked. I gotta know more."

"Nothing really to tell," Helen returned. "Mom ran the bar, Dad travelled on business, and I got a front row seat to 'How to Avoid Alcoholism 101,'" Helen said, smirking at her improvised revisionist history.

"Gotta be more to it than that!" he insisted. Seeing Helen's confused look, Gabriel realized he might be coming on a bit too strongly. "Sorry. Curiosity, felines…you know the rest. I get it. Complete stranger, digging for dirt. Looks bad, right?" he apologized with a wave of his hand.

Helen nodded slightly. "Well, you jumped in for the assist with Pete, and you haven't tried to get in my pants yet," she allowed. "Obviously you're not a complete sleaze ball. Just a bit greasy," she quipped with a wink.

"Ouch! It burns me so!" Gabriel faked injury at the insult before shrugging. "How about a lil' tit for tat? I share, you share, and we both drink?" he suggested smoothly.

Given her truckload of baggage, she wasn't sure it was such a great idea. She studied him as she considered his suggestion. He waggled his eyebrows at her, clearly for comedic effect, but his eyes were honest, burning with curiosity. He'd already drunk a belt of holy water (Helen snuck into his drink when he wasn't looking) and didn't react to her silver ring, so he likely wasn't an evil SOB out to get her. To hell with it, she thought. Life was too short to never trust anyone but Bobby ever again.

"Ok, sounds fair Gabe," Helen finally responded evenly. "Well, I started, so you have the floor now."

Gabriel nodded reluctantly. "Okie dokie then. Whatcha wanna know?"

"I guess something simple-where are ya from?"

Gabriel coughed and sputtered, nearly inhaling his last sip at the question. "Ahh, well... That's a hard one."

Helen furrowed her brow in confusion. "How so?" she raised an eyebrow suspiciously. How many people react like _that_ to a simple question? she thought. This was starting to give her a supernatural vibe.

Rubbing a hand over the back of his neck, Gabriel struggled for an answer. "Would you believe me if I said I fell from Heaven?" he asked, shooting her a shit-eating grin. The blank stare he got in response was enough. "Yeah, didn't think so. Back East."

"Where about? Got any family back there?"

"Uh uh, your turn now, Blondie," Gabriel fired back. "How 'bout you-where are you from?"

"Midwest. Back to your family..." she redirected him.

He sighed loudly before answering. "Bunch of dicks. Yours?" At that he fixed his gaze on his drink, looking up at her out of the corner of his eye.

Helen swallowed hard to stop the lump in her throat from preventing her response. Gulping down half her drink, she replied, "They... _were_ good people."

Gabriel winced, immediately regretting the question. He placed his hand over hers and turned to face her. "I'm sorry," he apologized. He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand out of impulse. The gesture brought a sad smile to her face but she never looked away from her glass. Without thinking she mirrored his action, brushing her thumb against the side of his hand. She shrugged a shoulder before she finally answered him.

"'s'okay," she began, but realized the brave-face routine was dumb. "No, screw that. It's not. It's...it's just, so new. I'm still adjusting, trying to figure out life on my own." She shook her head in frustration and continued. "It's not like I've never been on my own before, but now that it's not by choice, it's a thousand times worse. I, uh... I just really miss 'em." She glanced up at him, their hands still intertwined, and tried to gauge his reaction. He looked calm, but Helen was still embarrassed about the oversharing. "Shit, I'm sorry man. I get a little carried away sometimes-"

Grasping her hand with both of his hands now, he interrupted her gently. "No apologies necessary, Helen. Tit for tat, remember?" He smiled warmly at her. She smiled with him, a warm feeling growing in her chest as he gazed at her.

She cleared her throat. "Mm so you were saying about your family?" She motioned to Greg for two more drinks. If they were getting deep, she knew they would need a little liquid courage.

He huffed out a laugh and rolled his eyes. "Damn, was hoping you didn't catch that." He downed the last of his drink. "I'm one of, like, thousands of kids, so needless to say, this," he motioned around the slower pace of the bar, "never happened back home." He chuckled at the double entendre of his reply, knowing Helen wouldn't get it.

"Thousands, eh?" She laughed at his over exaggeration. "Been there, sort of. Bar was always pretty steady, so my sister and I had to keep ourselves occupied to keep from get run over. How'd you deal with the insanity?"

He hesitated. This was way more than he had ever discussed about his actual identity, and he was practically singing it all for a hunter, no less. Still, it felt nice to actually let it out. "Didn't. As soon as no one was paying attention, I got the hell outta dodge. Started over."

Her eyebrows shot up in shock. "Holy shit! How old were you when you left?" Maybe Gabe really could understand her, since she'd taken off two days after graduation, leaving her own family behind. Finally Greg slid her nachos order in front of her. The smell of the cheese was mouthwatering. She offered Gabe a courtesy bite, but he turned it down, claiming he preferred sweets for snacks. More for me, she thought as she dug in.

This was getting difficult, but it wasn't like this was the first time he lied to a woman he liked. Damn, he did like her. Groaning quietly, he said, "Oh old enough, Hel. Not like I had to run any Oliver Twist routine to get by," he finished with a wink.

Oddly enough, that put Helen at ease. Gabe could clearly take care of himself, but if he had been on his own at such a young age, well that was just freakin' tragic to Helen. "Care to elaborate?"

"No way, your turn again! Keep this up and you'll be in trouble," he told her, waggling his eyebrows.

"Damn it, was hoping you didn't catch that!" She grinned at him. "Fine. Ask."

"Hmm. Ok, easy. Occupation?"

"You won't believe me," she replied.

"Try me! I've heard it all, I swear," he challenged.

Helen knocked back the last of her drink and motioned for more. "Doctor. I'm, er, I _was_ a doctor."

As if on cue, Gabe coughed on his drink. "Really?" he deadpanned. "Was...so not any more."

"Tell him what he's won, Johnny," Helen interjected, laughing.

Gabe rolled his eyes. "Ha ha, give the lady a mic and a brick wall, 'cause we got a comedienne!" They shared a laugh as he slow-clapped her lame humor. "No, I meant, why aren't you a doctor any more, dummy."

She stuck her tongue out at him, eliciting another round of chuckles from Gabe. "Nope, your turn, remember?"

"Well you know I'm an open book..." he began, stretching out his arms. Helen gave him a knowing look, letting him know she knew exactly how full of shit he was. He frowned dramatically. "Ok, that was a humongous lie. Doesn't mean I won't tell you the truth."

Helen cocked an eyebrow at him. "Isn't that exactly what it means?"

He smirked and shook his head. "Not at all. I couldn't even be dishonest about my dishonesty, right?" Helen snorted with disbelief, so Gabe continued. "If I was really here to lie to you, lie 'til we were, uh, _lying_ , if you get my drift..." She nodded that she did. "Then wouldn't I have picked a better story? Long walks on the beach, rescue puppies, home-cooked meals, endless orgasms, all that jazz?"

She considered it briefly before answering. "Nah, too orchestrated, so I'd know you were trying too hard. Obviously fake stuff."

Impressed, Gabe tried again, "But normal human males don't think that far ahead. Anything to score, but that's not my plan. Hell, I don't _have_ a plan. I just thought you were hella awesome, had to talk to you!"

"Which means you're either not normal or you've got a hell of a hand you're holding back." As she replied, something Gabe said triggered an earlier feeling, something hinky... Unable to put her finger on it, she left it alone. "And thanks for the compliment, by the way."

"Any time. Wait, would you really turn down a dude that promised endless orgasms?"

At that Helen laughed heartily. "Probably not. But if he sounded like that fake greeting card Romeo you just described, then maybe." Gabe shot her a questioning look, so she clarified, "Who wants to have to fake endless orgasms?"

That Cheshire cat grin from earlier returned to Gabe's face, lighting up his light brown eyes perfectly. Helen had just enough booze in her system that she didn't stop herself from ogling at the handsome man next to her. Maybe this was turning into a better night than she had intended.

* * *

[SPNSPNSPN]

After another hour of drinking and talking with Gabe, Helen finally began to shake off her earlier accosting. Gabe turned out to be an attentive listener, asking questions here and there but never outright interrupting her. Once or twice Helen caught herself rambling a bit, yet Gabe was still there with rapt attention. That's when Helen began second-guessing his intentions. Granted, she wasn't stupid-even when she was completely smashed, Helen only gave up her first name and generalized, vague details. Still, she had to wonder what normal guy kept up this kind of attention, this level of intensity, for a chick he just met two hours ago? She tried not to let her doubts show, but her anxiety to know the truth effectively launched itself to her legs. Even with her mellowed demeanor, the toe tapping was painfully obvious.

"Uh, Hel-you ok over there?" Gabe noticed. _Shit_.

"Yeah, fine. Why?" Helen tried to play dumb.

Gabe returned her earlier knowing look. "Oh, I dunno...the drumroll you've got going with your feet is impressive and all, but doesn't exactly scream 'I'm fine,'" he remarked with a dramatic eye roll.

Frowning nervously, she simply said, "You got me. Maybe I wanna know what your intentions are, Gabriel."

He stiffened at the use of his full name. It was instantaneous, but as quickly as it was noticed, it was already gone. Casually he raised an eyebrow. "What was that you said?"

Helen's hinky feeling quickly returned when Gabe reacted to his full name. "Your intentions? Or using the full name part?" she questioned suspiciously, carefully watching his reaction.

Gabe ran his hand through his hair in an attempt to maintain his nonchalance. "The name. What makes you think that's my name?" he replied in a low tone. When he thought Helen wasn't looking, he quickly scanned the room. Looked like no one was paying them any attention.

Helen furrowed her brows in frustration. This guy was good. What about the full name Gabriel would set him off like that? "Uh, duh. Gabe, short for Gabriel? Unless there's some other name it's short for... Gabrielle maybe?" she teased lightly.

He scoffed at her sarcasm. Leaning in closer, he answered seriously, "No, it's exactly what you think. I just don't ever _say_ it. No one does."

"You completely skated over my intentions question, by the way."

"They're fine. Stay with me on this, Helen," he half-whispered, attempting to refocus the conversation.

"Ok, cut the shit dude. What's with the name, huh? You're making my hinky alarm go nuts!"

He clenched his jaw but didn't have an answer. Instead he drained his drink in one gulp and motioned for another.

Helen narrowed her eyes at him. "What, are you a fugitive or something?"

Man, she wasn't letting up! Gabriel grabbed his next drink straight from Greg's hand and took hefty swig. Sensing her stare, he looked at Helen. She was still waiting for an answer. He settled for a nod.

At his nod, Helen cocked a worried eyebrow at him. "Who's after you, Gabe?" she said in a hushed tone. Helen knew, even after just getting to know him, that he truly was a good guy.

Setting his glass down, he wasn't quite sure about how much he should divulge, not aloud at least. Without realizing it, his gaze slowly travelled upwards, until he was staring at the ceiling.

"Up. Ok..." Helen paused when something dawned on her. Huffing out a laugh, she asked, still incredulous at the theory forming, "Ha, what, are you on Heaven's most wanted list?"

Gabe quickly caught her stare. Once he was sure she was paying attention, he gave her one quick nod, then turned back to his drink.

"Heaven. _Heaven_ has it out for you? Freakin' HEAVEN..." Helen deadpanned. When Gabe didn't answer, Helen quickly followed up with another question. "Why you? What the hell did you do?"

"I ran away, remember?"

Helen's jaw dropped. "You... So, when... You're _the_..." she sputtered.

"Yeah. The one and only."

* * *

 **Long time, I know! Unfortunately, I have had even less time than usual to write, and most of that time was spent with writer's block. Ergh. Anyhow, I'm hoping I did Gabriel justice here, because I've got at least another chapter to squeeze outta that handsome devil (technically brother-there-of I guess?)! Lol. As always, comments/critiques/concerns are all welcome!**

 **Mishel-10** **: Thank you so much for keeping up! Seriously girl, you rock. Yes, we will see glimpses of the boys soon! I'm planning on this story finishing up at the end of season 5. (Don't worry though, it will just be the first of many I hope!) So we'll get a bit more Apocalyptic here soon ;)**

 **Thanks y'all! -H**


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